


the disappearance of goro akechi

by KupoWonders



Category: Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Accomplice Ending (Persona 4), Akechi Goro Has A Palace, Akechi Goro Has A TV Dungeon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Investigations, Kidnapping, POV Multiple, more accurately
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 111,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KupoWonders/pseuds/KupoWonders
Summary: Five years ago in Inaba, a wildcard betrayed his friends and helped a murderer walk free. Now, as Medjed’s threat thrusts the spotlight on the Phantom Thieves and the Second Detective Prince racing to unmask them, police from all over Japan are called to Tokyo to help the investigation. And as the familiar silhouette of a boy with a briefcase appears on TV sets at midnight, it’s only a matter of time before someone gives the people what they want.(On the eve of Medjed's defeat, Goro Akechi gets thrown into the TV.)
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 115
Kudos: 235





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes on this AU:  
> This is set 5 years after the Accomplice Bad Ending of P4. Yu did not max out any social link aside from Adachi’s. Teddie went back into the TV world permanently, Namatame is in prison, and Yu effectively cut off contact with the Investigation Team to focus on his new murder buddy. Most of the team are still in Inaba, but a few have left.  
> This begins toward the end of August 20XX, just before Medjed are stopped by Futaba.  
> For plot purposes, the P5 Personas work differently to P4 Personas as they were awakened differently… and don’t necessarily work within the TV World.
> 
> some warnings: Adachi's internal monologue is mostly misogynistic and misanthropic (but he isn't the only POV character), and this chapter involves assault (being forced into the TV world). 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Adachi stepped off the train, breathing in deep and letting the heavy air of Tokyo settle in his lungs. A bright grin split his face, even as he had to stop and tug his suitcase out from where its wheel had gotten stuck on the train doors. 

He’d finally done it. At long last he had made it out of that empty town in the middle of nowhere and was back in the big city, where he belonged. Back in the biggest city in Japan, and put on the case that was gripping the entire country. He, Tohru Adachi, had been personally chosen to join the unofficial investigation of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, and he couldn’t believe his luck. 

He stepped out of the train station and caught a cab to the cheap hotel that the SIU had set him up with during his stay, dumping his suitcase next to the primly made double bed and straightening his tie in the mirror beside the modest television set before heading out again. He had a briefing with the leads on the case that evening, but according to his phone’s GPS the hotel wasn’t too far from the station. 

He stepped out onto busy streets, surrounded by the bustle and buzz of the city that was downright intoxicating compared to the dull shuffle of Inaba, and felt the same buzz creeping through his skin and humming in his bones. This was right. This was the universe finally giving him exactly what he deserved; this was his reward for using the powers gifted to him in that nowhere town in an entertaining way. He’d do his job well enough for the higher-ups in Tokyo to let him stay, and he’d finally never have to set foot somewhere so dull, drab or empty ever again. 

He checked his phone on the way to the station, making sure that he was definitely heading the right way, and saw a message from his old partner shining on the screen. His lip curled at Dojima’s text, asking him if he made it to Tokyo safely and if he enjoyed the mochi that his sickly daughter had given him before he’d left. Like Dojima cared beyond no longer having his gopher to run around after him. 

As he put his phone back in his pocket to respond to later, he pulled a second phone out of the inside pocket of his blazer and checked the screen. There was a single message from an unknown number across the plain, default background.

**It’s done.**

A more genuine smile pulled at Adachi’s lips, the same giddy feeling that always came from getting away with murder crackling in his chest. There was a little spring in his step as he deleted the message from the old phone, cracking open the back and pulling out the SIM card before putting it back together. He dropped the card down a storm drain right outside the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters, tucking the phone back into his hidden pocket before strolling through the front doors. 

The police station had more than double the amount of floors as the one back in Inaba, and was so much brighter and newer – the white paintwork was pristine, and the walls weren’t sporting any large cracks that they couldn’t afford to cover up with their meagre budget. The lobby had a separate waiting area and an actual, working water cooler off to the left, and more than one person was manning the reception desk, which was clean and looked like it was actual marble. 

He sauntered over to the front desk, pulling out his ID badge and smiling cheerfully at the woman behind the desk. She was pretty, but in a quiet, not in your face kind of way, and Adachi reminded himself to ask for her number after a few days. Might as well get an idea of what the women of Tokyo were like while he was here. 

“Hello there,” he greeted, inclining his head. “I’m Tohru Adachi from the Yasoinaba Police Department – I’m here for the Medjed briefing?”

Recognition shone in the receptionist’s eyes, and she offered a polite smile and a slight bow. “Ah yes, of course! The briefing is in the conference room on the third floor, it’s signposted once you step out of the elevator down the hall.” She gestured toward where the elevator should be. “Niijima-san and Akechi-san should already be there, and the meeting should begin shortly. I hope you enjoy your time in Tokyo, Adachi-san!”

He thanked her and gave his own short bow before heading toward the elevator, bouncing on the soles of his feet as it headed upwards. International hackers and masters of blackmail… this investigation was going to be so much more interesting than just finding missing cats and separating drunken fights in quiet rural streets. And even if the Phantom Thieves proved difficult to catch and Medjed difficult to stop, Tokyo was a much bigger pond with so very many opportunities for all manners of entertainment. There was bound to be so much more he could do here than out in the countryside, especially with his powers. 

This was going to be so much fun. 

He passed a break room, spotting an enormous flat screen TV on a stand at the far end of the room, and pushed open the glass door that led into a conference room. Half a dozen officers were already in the room, all straight-backed and serious-faced as they lined the long table in the centre of the room, and standing at its head, in front of a large whiteboard, was an unusual pair. A woman in a dark suit with long silver hair and a man in a tan blazer that looked more reminiscent of a school’s uniform than a police officer’s were talking quietly between themselves, backs to the gathered officers, but as Adachi stepped inside, apologetic smile already in place, they turned toward him and he hesitated in the doorway. 

It wasn’t a man, but a child. A woman and a child were standing at the head of the room like either of them could possibly have anything worthwhile to say, and while the child was wearing a polite smile beneath his shaggy hair the woman was scowling like all of them were beneath her. Someone really had to tell her that she’d be a hell of a lot prettier if she smiled, but he had to make a good first impression so it wasn’t going to be him. 

“Sorry, am I late? I only arrived in Tokyo today-”

“Oh no, you’re right on time,” the child said mildly, and the woman lessened her scowl with visible effort. 

“I take it you’re Adachi-san?” she asked, and her voice was just as sharp and cold as the rest of her. Pretty enough, but with _that_ attitude a mannequin with lipstick on it would have better luck getting a husband. When he nodded, she mirrored it. “I’m Sae Niijima, this is Goro Akechi. Please, take a seat.”

Adachi did, but as he sat he felt his surprise morphing into frustration as he belatedly recognised the boy’s name and realised the situation he’d landed in. This had to be some sort of sick joke. His ‘superiors’ were a woman and a child, and not just any child, but the _second coming of the Detective Prince_. It wasn’t enough for him to have had to suffer through the first smug little brat, the pathetic little girl sticking her nose in where it wasn’t wanted and so far up herself that she never realised that she’d put the wrong man behind bars. Now he’d have to deal with her prissy successor. 

At least this one was a prince rather than a secret princess – or maybe, it occurred to him, taking in the long hair and the pose with one hand on his hip, this one was another little girl in over her head. He looked a little older than Shirogane had been when she’d started running around getting involved in other people’s business, but he was still a child. And, from what he remembered, while Shirogane had enough self-respect to shy away from the media trying to parade her around like an idol, this one leaned into it like some poorly trained dog begging for scraps. Shirogane only put up with interviews and public scrutiny if it helped her cases, while the one interview he’d caught from this kid was clearly engineered just to stroke his ego. 

So it was a woman and an attention-seeking brat that he was going to be reporting to, making him spend his time in Tokyo running around after them. Fantastic, wonderful, just what he needed to ruin his entire day. He smiled politely at the pair of them as imagined twisting his fists in their hair and slamming their faces into the TVs, relishing the thought of the looks of shock and horror on their faces when they realised that he wasn’t there to help them, but to make them suffer. Even after five years and countless other victims, it was still so easy to picture the look that had been on his first victim’s face twisting Niijima’s and Akechi’s and improving the sight of both of them. It would probably be pretty hard to actually make either of those two disappear, but fantasies were free and harmless… and they certainly helped keep a nice, docile smile on his face as the Niijima woman began to speak.

“As I’m sure that you are all aware, the international hacker organisation Medjed recently declared war on the vigilante group known as the Phantom Thieves of Hearts,” Niijima said, addressing the room, and Adachi made himself sit up a little straighter. “Medjed demanded that the Phantom Thieves reveal their true identities, and if they do not, then they will respond by launching a cyberattack that will cripple Japan. So far neither side has made a move, and the deadline is getting closer.” She paused, her lips drawing together in a thin line. “We cannot allow Medjed’s ‘cleanse’ to transpire. We must unmask the Phantom Thieves before their deadline on the 21st.”

That gave them just less than a week, by Adachi’s estimation. Not much time at all, so this tiny team had probably thought that the Phantom Thieves would have solved the problem themselves long before this, and were now scrambling to do whatever they could to catch them before disaster struck. He supposed it was to be expected by a team led by these two, but it was still pathetic. 

“If the Phantom Thieves continue to hide from Medjed’s challenge, then they have betrayed not only the Japanese public, but their own justice,” Akechi piped up from her side, his expression cold and serious despite the ridiculously childish words that were coming out of his mouth. “That is unforgivable.”

That must have been his shtick on TV, Adachi thought – talking about justice and righteousness like they were things that actually existed and should be valued. He could imagine the vapid airheads all over Tokyo swooning over someone so moral and just, like how the women around his first precinct had swooned over him when he turned up bright-eyed and newly armed. He wondered how quickly they’d lose interest in him once they decide that clinging to justice isn’t cute, it’s just naive, and once he was too old for the boy band look to work for him. 

“Do we have any leads on the Phantom Thieves identities?” one of the other officers asked. 

“We believe that they are a group of high school students,” Akechi continued, raising one gloved hand to his chin. “Most likely from Shujin Academy, due to their first victim being a teacher there and the first calling cards being posted within the school, rather than in a public place like with Madarame and Kaneshiro. No suspicious individuals were spotted in the vicinity of Shujin on the morning of the calling card’s appearance, after all. It is also possible, of course, that they are merely people with links to Shujin’s volleyball team, but it is far more likely that they are students themselves.”

“High school students?” another questioned, scepticism dripping from his words, and Tohru immediately thought of the do-gooder ‘investigation team’ that had tried so hard to spoil his fun in Inaba. The group of kids who by all rights should have died in the TV, somehow surviving and banding together to seek that oh so elusive truth. His little partner in crime had told him how close they’d gotten by the end, how they’d almost managed to piece it together, but all it had taken was one of them pointing them in the wrong direction for all of their determination and god-given powers to amount to nothing. 

It was easy to imagine these Phantom Thieves of Hearts being something similar, high school kids who’d woken up with more power than they knew what to do with deciding to make the world a better place however they could. There was nothing suggesting that they had the same kind of power that those TV kids had, but wouldn’t that be something if they did? And didn’t that just rub in his face how much of a nowhere town Inaba was compared to Tokyo – in Inaba supernatural powers just got you a tiny police investigation even if you had two murder victims _and_ a desperate copycat killer to your name, while in Tokyo you make one mafia boss cry to the police and you get international hackers knocking on your door. God, the fun he could have had here. He could have had the world itself eating out of the palm of his hand.

 _Well, you’re here now,_ he reminded himself as the little prince began reminding the team how much damage the Phantom Thieves had already wrought even if they _were_ just children playing vigilantes, that same disarming smile set in place. _You’ll just have to make up for lost time._

He watched Niijima and Akechi set up their little presentation, the Phantom Thieves logo splashed across the wall that they were projecting onto, dyeing the room a deep, dangerous red, and knew that he’d have to make his debut in Tokyo one to remember.

*

Adachi returned to his hotel room long after the sun had set, his stomach trying to eat itself and his eyelids drooping. He was kicking himself for not managing to catch any sleep on the train to Tokyo, and for the department that had seemed so high-tech compared to the ancient Inaba still having the exact same slow, decrepit IT system. It had taken him hours to be registered and given access to the system, and he couldn’t even complain about it without getting a commiserating chuckle from the fucking _child detective_ who had a bigger, nicer desk than him. 

They’d dumped Adachi in the corner, away from the window, the printer, and everything worthwhile aside from the bin at the back of the room, given him a monitor with a burn mark just off the centre of the screen and seemingly the slowest computer in the office. Niijima had only hung around long enough to make sure that all of the newcomers had their own desks before she disappeared, meaning that Adachi’s current supervisor was the child. 

At least the others who had been landed in this position seemed just as irritated as Adachi was by this development, immediately questioning and trying to bait the teenager, daring him to show his incompetence and lose his cool. What was even more infuriating was that Akechi seemed to be expecting this reaction to his presence, easily deflecting their more prying questions and eager to prove how competent he was, all with a smug smile that Adachi wanted to punch off his face. 

The day had dragged on seemingly endlessly, poring over the tiny amount of evidence they had – practically nothing aside from the calling cards and the confessions of their victims – and trying to make any sort of connection from them. He left the station after eleven at night, only just managing to grab an instant yakisoba (and another SIM card for his old flip phone) from the closest convenience store before staggering back into his hotel room, his blazer soaked from the heavens opening up seemingly as soon as he went outside. 

Was every day going to be like this? Trying to get clues from nothing with Niijima and Akechi breathing down his neck? He’d thought being Dojima’s servant was bad enough, but at least Dojima knew what he was doing and wasn’t wasting his time trying to catch literal phantoms. He was going to have to find a way to get some entertainment fast, otherwise this entire situation was going to drive him insane. 

He was searching for tourist hotspots in Tokyo on his newer phone and just finishing off his noodles when the clock in the top right corner ticked over to midnight. He didn’t even notice it; not until there was a sudden, familiar noise that made him freeze where he sat. The soft groan of an old television set tuning in, despite the only TV in the room being the modern set beside the mirror.

Could it be...? 

His head immediately snapped toward the screen just in time to watch static creep across it as it turned itself on, and a wicked smile spread across his face. It had been so long since the Midnight Channel had decided to make an appearance that he thought it had disappeared forever, but apparently it had just been biding its time. The white static gave way to mustard yellow, and he watched with excitement pooling in his gut as a blurry silhouette appeared on the screen. 

The figure was masculine, wearing what looked like some kind of suit, with a briefcase in one hand and shaggy hair hanging down to his shoulders, and even though Adachi had only met him for the first time today, Goro Akechi was instantly recognisable. Adachi leaned back, staring at this blurry figure waving toward the screen, grinning so hard his face hurt. 

If this wasn’t a sign that his work wasn’t done, then Adachi didn’t know what was. This was a gift given by whatever god had given him his powers in the first place, telling him personally that he wasn’t meant to be the subordinate of some pathetic child. He was supposed to be the man who brought chaos to Tokyo, who put those who wronged him in their place. 

He didn’t have Namatame around to do the dirty work anymore, though. Narukami may have finished the last job he’d given him but he wasn’t currently in Tokyo, and it would be difficult for his partner in crime to get close to the detective prince in so little time. Adachi hadn’t been the one to personally do his jobs since that Konishi girl... but what a grand return it would be, to be the one to shove the baby detective into the TV that he loved so damn much. To be the one to make him beg for his life night after night, watching it all from his hotel room and knowing that no one would have even the slightest idea of how to save him until it was too late. Fog wasn’t as common in the big city as it was in the countryside – he could have _weeks_ of entertainment from one little push. 

He’d have to plan it out properly, of course, and make sure he made no mistakes. The brat might just be a child, but he was still at least training to be a police officer – he’d probably fight back a hell of a lot more than Konishi or Yamano had, but he’d hardly be expecting to be shoved into a television set. Adachi would have the element of surprise on his side, and that would probably be enough. 

Narukami had told him once that his team had guessed that the people who appeared on the Midnight Channel in Inaba were the ones that the town had wanted to know about, staying in their minds because they’d appeared on TV. Inaba was so tiny that some girl working at an inn and some washed-up jailbait idol were enough to hold their attention, but Tokyo was so much bigger. That this Akechi kid had managed to grab and hold their attention enough to bring the Midnight Channel back into existence was almost impressive, even if it was almost definitely due to the influence of the Phantom Thieves that had boosted his popularity. Still, the people clearly wanted to know who the _real_ Detective Prince was.

And Adachi would be more than happy to show them.

*

Time was running out, and the Phantom Thieves still weren’t making a move. 

Everyone in the precinct was slowly losing their minds as Medjed’s deadline crept ever closer, and Goro Akechi was finding it harder and harder to keep his cool as more days went by without a calling card or any other sign that the Thieves were taking the threat seriously. Everything about the group suggested that they wouldn’t just let a threat like Medjed lie, that they wouldn’t simply take Kaneshiro’s heart and then bow out of the spotlight that they so obviously craved. It made no sense for them to disappear now, and the longer they left it the more it made Goro look like he was both incompetent _and_ a liar. 

He’d told Shido that the Phantom Thieves would revel at the challenge, that they wouldn’t be able to let such a thing slide by, and the man had adjusted his plan accordingly. Shido had actually taken his opinion into account, had included it in his plan to raise the Thieves up before bringing them crashing down to earth, and now they were _ruining everything_ by hiding away in the shadows and ignoring a blatant challenge. Ignoring _his_ challenge.

There were mere days left, the SIU Director was getting nervous and had brought in additional officers from all over Japan to try to find them, and Shido had been leaving increasingly pointed messages on Akechi’s phone, constantly demanding updates and assurances that everything was proceeding as planned, as well as reminding him of how worthless he would be if this plan fell through. As if he didn’t already know all of this better than anyone. 

He’d invited Amamiya to the jazz club in an attempt to gather intel, to see if he was as nervous as he damn well should be considering that his group would be public enemy number one months earlier than planned if they didn’t deal with this properly, but the boy was inscrutable as always. (And Goro may have ended up overpowering the conversation with his own history and opinions. Again. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from doing that.) So the Thieves seemed to think they had the situation under control, while everyone else around him slowly lost their minds waiting for the sky to fall. This tune was beginning to become familiar, and he hated it. 

To top it all off, Goro was expected to ingratiate himself to the new officers to make the department look good and this entire investigation look like it wasn’t a complete farce. So he was expected to not only go to cram school and complete all the homework and additional essays required of him, preparing for his entrance exams and university interviews despite it being summer break, but also spend every day in work following the non-existent trail of the Phantom Thieves that he _already knew the identities of_ , making sure that none of his colleagues got too close before the time was right, get on the good side of officers who were looking at him like he was nothing more than an infant with a badge, _and_ soothe Shido and the director’s worries and inflated egos. And he was expected to do it all with a smile.

Of course he was perfectly capable of doing it all, and doing it _well_ , but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be bitter about it. 

So Goro found himself still sitting at his desk on a Friday night, the majority of his new team having already left for the evening, surreptitiously trying to complete his homework while finishing a report to the SIU Director that essentially boiled down to ‘it’s the exact same as yesterday, stop fucking asking me’. Sae had left earlier, giving both him and the one remaining team member stern instructions to contact her immediately if there were any developments, which of course there weren’t going to be. Goro knew that he’d have to stay in the office until the other man left – if Goro left earlier than him then he’d undoubtedly start telling their colleagues how Akechi-kun was lazy and unworthy to be on the investigation, and he didn’t need to add proving himself to losers who were beneath him to his already long list of things to do. 

Still, the one man who had decided not to go home early was an interesting case. Tohru Adachi, the man from the town of Yasoinaba. One of the officers who had personally worked alongside Naoto Shirogane, the first Detective Prince, in a strange serial murder case that had plagued the town. 

He’d only met Shirogane in person once, roughly a year and a half ago when the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department had brought her in to help them with a high-profile human trafficking case. He hadn’t even recognised her when she’d appeared – in fact it was Sae who had sought out the young woman in a suit, seeming almost nervous as she asked for an autograph for her sister, telling Shirogane how she was an inspiration for young girls with dreams in law enforcement while the woman in question looked both pleased and uncomfortable.

Shirogane had found him later in the day, seeming to notice that he was the youngest person in the precinct, and had taken it upon herself to give him a pep talk, encouraging him to remember to keep faith in his own abilities and not lose sight of his own justice, no matter how narrow-minded the adults around him could be. It had been a pretty speech, despite the awkwardness with which she had delivered it, and it probably would have meant a lot more if he had actually gotten into the police force on his own merit and not because Shido had decided that this would be an effective way to make use of him. It seemed that Shido had already had ideas about presenting Akechi as the new Detective Prince, but after that meeting and her brief resurgence in the press (despite Shirogane’s best efforts to avoid interviews and reporters) he started seriously moving to make that a reality. 

Now, Goro occasionally felt Adachi glancing over toward him, and he wondered how often the man compared him with the Detective Prince that he knew. Did Adachi think he was less qualified than Shirogane because he wasn’t from a prestigious line of detectives? Shirogane had helped solve that murder case when she was only in her first year of high school, and he was in his third now that the Phantom Thieves had appeared and pushed him further in the spotlight, so did he consider Shirogane smarter than him too? Was he automatically considered the lesser of the two, too old and with inferior blood?

He could ask his opinion outright – frame it as him not wanting to embarrass his predecessor, to ensure that their skills were equal, if not tipped in his favour. He’d cultivated a charming personality that Shirogane had never bothered with, and Shirogane hardly had access to another world that could be used and manipulated to their whims, so why wouldn’t he be superior to her? 

Adachi stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly, making Goro’s gaze flicker over to him. 

“Wow, I am beat!” he announced, smiling at Goro. “They certainly do work us pretty hard here, huh, detective?”

Goro put on a small, commiserating smile. “It certainly can seem that way sometimes, but this matter is quite urgent. We need to uncover the Phantom Thieves before-”

“Oh, come on!” Adachi interrupted, standing up from behind his desk, and Goro made his expression stay the same despite the spark of irritation at being cut off. “If they really are high school students like you say, I don’t think they’re going to get up to much tonight. They should have cram school in the morning, if they’re worth anything.” The corner of his mouth ticked up higher, and he gestured towards Goro lazily with one hand. “As do you, right?” 

“In theory, yes,” he replied, adding a little bashfulness to his voice. “But in times like these, the station often liaises with my school to keep my skills on hand for longer. I expect that I will be returning here tomorrow morning.”

“Then you need to head home for the day pretty soon, or at least take a break,” Adachi pressed, moving a little closer to his desk. “If our Detective Prince starts getting sloppy because he isn’t taking breaks, then who’s going to catch those Thieves?”

 _If you leave now, then I can go,_ he thought bitterly, but hid it beneath a soft chuckle. “Ah, but you know what they say. Crime never sleeps.”

“I guess so,” Adachi replied, still smiling. “I might do a little more work before I head back to my hotel, but do you mind showing me to the break room Akechi-kun? This precinct is so much bigger than the one back home, I keep getting lost in it.”

 _You literally can’t miss it,_ he wanted to sneer, but instead he nodded and pushed up from his desk. “Of course not. It’s not far from here, fortunately.”

He stepped out of their office, walking down the empty hall toward the break room. The windows on the way showed the darkening sky of a late summer evening, the bright cityscape already chasing the encroaching gloom with shining lights in every colour. After seeing the same sight so many times Goro walked past it without a glance, but he heard Adachi drawing to a stop and uttering a quiet, amazed laugh. 

“It’s just so _big,”_ he said, sounding impressed, and Goro made himself wait even though he wanted to tell Adachi to hurry the hell up and get this over with. 

“I can’t imagine how different Tokyo is from what you’re used to,” he said mildly. “I haven’t often ventured out into the countryside, but I imagine the difference is striking.”

“It’s definitely different,” Adachi admitted. “I can’t wait to see everything it has to offer.”

Goro smiled and stopped outside of the break room, which was on the exact same corridor as their office and would have been incredibly easy for him to find on his own, and waited for Adachi to catch up with him. He gestured to the break room with a smile on his face, and Adachi immediately let out another startled laugh. 

“Wow, look at the size of that thing!” he exclaimed, striding into the room and waving toward the admittedly large television screen. It was turned off, and probably had been for hours now. “Damn, they definitely don’t have that sort of thing out in the sticks!”

“It isn’t quite as impressive as it seems – it doesn’t have many channels,” Goro told him. “I’m sorry, I’m not certain where the remote control is.”

“Do they show your interviews on this thing?” Adachi asked, stepping deeper into the room and walking right up to the television screen, like it was something terribly interesting. 

_It’s just a TV,_ he wanted to say, but he was being asked about himself and had to answer. 

“Occasionally, but it gets pretty dull for us all. Most of my interviews are just rehashing the cases that we’re all currently working on, and, well.” He gestured vaguely. “No one in the precinct particularly wants to see that.”

Adachi didn’t seem daunted, looking at the TV contemplatively. “Do you think if they showed you on this TV, it would be life-sized?” he asked, and Goro’s brow furrowed slightly. 

“Excuse me?”

“Come over here,” Adachi said, beckoning him over, and although Adachi’s smile remained the exact same, sitting somewhere between friendly and unassuming, unease began to creep up Goro’s spine. But still, it was a harmless enough request. 

He approached Adachi without hesitation, seeing that unassuming smile sharpen slightly as he glanced around the corners of the break room. Towards where the CCTV cameras would be, Goro thought, if the room had any cameras in it to begin with. 

Goro stopped a few feet away from him, still a metre or so away from the television, and Adachi looked at him appraisingly. Now that they were so close to one another Goro realised that he was taller than the older man by a few inches, and he wondered if he should try to slouch a little to reduce his height and make him more comfortable, like Ren seemed to do around others. But honestly, he had a thousand better things to do than to try to soothe the ego of some detective whose only important case had been solved by Shirogane. 

“Hmm,” Adachi said, rubbing at his chin and stepping around Goro, observing him from different angles until he stopped just behind him, standing between Goro and the door. “Yeah, it looks like it’d be about right.”

“Interesting,” Goro said, even though it was anything but. He kept his own placid smile in place, and glanced over Adachi’s shoulder and toward the door. “Forgive me, Adachi-san, but I must finish my report. I’ll leave you to it.” 

He gave a short bow, and began to walk past him. Adachi’s hand landed heavily on his left shoulder, and he froze instinctively. 

“Y’know,” Adachi growled, his voice abruptly lower as his grip tightened, dropping all of the easy familiarity that had filled his voice like it had never been there in the first place, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a kid quite as slimy as you.”

Goro reached up with his right arm, simply aiming to dislodge him, but Adachi grabbed the limb and brutally twisted it up his back, making Goro instinctively arch away from the pain. The hand on his shoulder tightened harshly, keeping him in place, and Goro tried to pull his arm out of his grip to no avail. He was going to have to file a goddamn incident report now wasn’t he, he didn’t have _time_ for this shit-

“I have got _no_ idea what your little fans see in you,” Adachi continued to sneer, but there was a bright note in his voice now, like manhandling a teenager was all he needed to improve his day. “You’re nothing but a slimy little know-it-all.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” Goro snarled, driving his left elbow backward with force, lips pulling away from his teeth as it made contact and he heard the breath leave Adachi’s lungs. His satisfaction was short-lived as the man behind him started laughing, and his right arm was twisted up higher. He couldn’t stop the pained hiss that slipped past his lips, and the hand on his shoulder left to move upwards, twisting viciously in his hair and yanking his head back. 

“Wow, didn’t expect that!” Adachi laughed, pulling harder, and Goro’s one free hand reached up to try to pry his grip loose. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” 

_“Fuck off,”_ Goro hissed. He gave up on trying to reach Adachi’s fingers and reached further backward, aiming for the man’s face – if he could get his fingers in his eyes then he’d definitely let go – but his minimal height advantage worked in Adachi’s favour, the angle making it hard to reach, and the man shoved him forward and his head down with enough force that he almost tripped over his feet. 

“Don’t be like that, Akechi-kun,” Adachi chided, and shoved him forward again. “I’m just giving you what you want.” The tone of his voice dropped again. “You seem to love TV so much, after all.”

And Goro abruptly realised that Adachi was pushing him toward the television at the back of the room. 

_Is he going to try to slam my face into it?_ he thought as Adachi tried to close the distance between them and the TV screen. 

Goro threw out his left arm, trying to grab the screen and use it as some form of leverage – it wasn’t small, he could hold onto it or push against it, delaying whatever Adachi was trying to do – but his gloved fingers didn’t find anything to hold onto, or even bounce against the dark glass. Instead his hand went _through_ the screen with no resistance, black and white swirls pooling around the contact like ripples across a pond, and he was so startled that he froze. 

And provided no resistance in the split second when Adachi shoved his entire head into the screen, letting go of his hair at last to plant both hands across his back and _push._

It was like the TV had its own gravitational pull – once part of him was across the threshold, there was no way to pull himself out. Goro Akechi was pulled into the world beyond the television screen, the glass swallowing his surprised cry, leaving only Tohru Adachi laughing hysterically in the break room of an empty precinct. 

* 

Goro hit the ground hard enough for the breath to leave his lungs, and for a moment he simply lay prone on the ground, his mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. 

That detective Adachi had attacked him. His hand had gone through a television screen, and then, presumably, so had the rest of him. He’d fallen from what felt like a pretty large height – he had been free-falling for at least a few seconds, not the instant that it should have been if he had, say, replaced the television in the break room with something that he could easily fall through – so it was likely that he was no longer in the precinct. 

Goro cracked his eyes open tentatively, trying to get some idea of where he was. Hazy yellow surrounded him, like a fog of mustard gas had filled the world, and he clamped a hand over his mouth quickly. This couldn’t be safe to breathe in, but unless there was a way out nearby he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter. 

He could make out vague, dark shapes beyond the fog, but nothing that was moving like it was alive. He got his feet under him and stood up, swaying uncertainly where he stood when sudden vertigo struck him. He risked a glance upward, to see if there was a hole or something that he had fallen through, but all he could see was the yellow fog, static and unmoving. There were large spotlights hanging from scaffolding that seemed to be attached to nothing, but no sign of any sun or moon or natural source of light. 

He staggered forward, toward the dark shapes in the distance, keeping his hand over his nose and mouth to try to at least reduce the amount of fog inhaled, but the more he moved the heavier his limbs felt. This place felt wrong, like his body rejected the thought of being here, like it was some strange other world-

He paused. Another world? Was it possible that he was somehow in the Metaverse, and the television had been… some sort of portal? A portal that somehow Tohru Adachi, some random detective from the middle of nowhere, knew all about? 

He shoved his free hand into his pocket, reaching for his phone to check the app, and felt an abrupt rush of cold dread when his fingers brushed nothing but the fabric of his jacket. He patted down all of his pockets but the result was the same – he didn’t have his phone. He checked the ground where he had fallen, but there was no sign whatsoever of his sleek smartphone. It must have fallen out of his pocket in the struggle, back in the break room. 

If this was the Metaverse, he couldn’t simply pull himself out. 

He gritted his teeth. No matter – he could deal with this. Rather than continuing searching his strange environment, he turned his attention inward instead. His clothes may not have changed, and he didn’t know if he was in a Palace or something else entirely, but he refused to be defenceless. He reached for that place deep within him where Loki and Robin Hood dwelt, calling to both of them and coaxing them forth, but even as he called he felt a strange, foreign distance between himself and his Personas. It was like their shapes, once perfectly defined parts of him easily slotting into his soul, had faltered. Rather than calling two distinct presences it felt like he was trying to catch smoke, like they were no longer solid, like they were no longer _there_. 

For the first time since his awakening, pure fear gripped Goro’s heart. 

_“This is not your realm, wildcard,”_ a voice purred. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once, vaguely feminine and dripping with amusement. _“Rebellion means little here.”_

“Who are you?” he called, and the voice did not respond. He looked around, but stopped when he spotted a blurry, humanoid silhouette standing dark in the fog in front of him. Just looking at it made pain ignite in the right side of his head, a burst of sharp, bright agony making him wince. He pressed a hand against his skull, gritting his teeth, and watched as the silhouette began to move closer to him. 

_“Here, we deal in something else entirely,”_ the voice continued. The figure was getting close enough for him to make out a uniform blazer, hair long enough to brush his shoulders, and Goro’s breath caught. _“Tell me, wildcard… how much do you value truth?”_

The figure stopped in front of him, smiling with his face and bright, golden eyes. His vision went white, pain shooting through his skull, and everything faded away.

*

Adachi sat sprawled across the hotel bed, a bag of popcorn open in his lap and listening to the rain as he waited for the television to turn itself on. 

It had taken him a little longer than he’d expected to tidy up everything before he’d left, logging off Akechi’s computer, grabbing his briefcase and putting his homework through the shredder. It wasn’t like the kid was going to need it now, and the less evidence there was of Akechi’s presence, the more they’d think that he’d just headed home after work was done. Fortunately once that was over with he still had enough time to get some snacks before getting back to the hotel. Excitement thrummed in his veins, dulling the slight ache in his ribs from where the brat had managed to land a surprisingly solid hit, and every second that passed on the way to midnight felt like an hour. 

It had been far too long since the last Midnight Channel performance. Adachi couldn’t wait to see what form the humiliating show would take, what secrets and insecurities this brat would announce to the world before he died. 

The TV screen opposite him began to grow fuzzy, and the familiar sound of the Midnight Channel tuning in filled the room as Adachi watched with bated breath. 

The scene opened on a bright television studio, cameras and boom mics visible when they hadn’t been on any of the other shows, and standing in the centre of the screen, bright eyed and smiling cheerfully, was Goro Akechi. Unlike the other kids, his clothes didn’t seem to have changed much – he was still wearing the school uniform that he’d been wearing at the precinct, but now there were manacles around his wrists, the chain between them a good six inches long but still rattling as he bowed toward the screen. 

“Good evening, dear viewers!” he greeted. “This is the second coming of the Detective Prince, Goro Akechi, coming to you live!” He smirked, raising his shackled hands toward the cameras. “It seems you’ve caught me at long last, so now it’s time for me to confess all of my deepest, darkest secrets for your viewing pleasure. I’m so, so sick of lying to all of the world, and I’m ready to finally let everyone know the truth.” He tapped his chin idly with a gloved hand, humming contemplatively. “But do you all really _deserve_ to hear the truth in its entirety?” He shook his head slightly. “There’s so few of my fans here, it wounds my poor little heart. Everyone in this wretched world should be watching me, witnessing me, _looking at me._ ” He swept his arms out as wide as they would go. “So keep watching, dear viewers. Tell all of your friends, don’t adjust that dial, and keep those eyes on me forever, and I’ll give you absolutely everything you’d ever want. Believe me, you won’t want to miss a thing.” He winked at the camera. “My performance will be to _die_ for.”

He turned on his heel and headed deeper into the studio, eventually disappearing into the fog at the back of the set. The screen flickered a few times before shutting off, leaving Adachi sitting in the dark, his own reflection smiling back at him. 

Well, that could have gone better, but it could have gone a lot worse. He had been half-expecting the brat to stride on-screen half-naked like that idol girl and the repressed punk had, crowing about how no one knew the ‘real’ him and how desperate he was for attention, but this was pretty much as pathetic as that would have been. But still, him goading them to keep watching was new – and it wasn’t a bad tactic, if the kid really was that desperate for attention. What kind of secrets could this wannabe idol have that he was putting off sharing? 

Akechi’s secrets could be nothing – just the pitiful teenage drama that seemed the be all and end all to pathetic children – but he could know something interesting. Maybe he’d gotten himself involved in a scandal or two, and it would all come out in front of the entire world. Adachi could picture it now – the tabloids screaming about how far their precious Detective Prince had fallen, at how disgraceful his actions were… right up until the fog rolled in, and he was found strung from a telephone pole. Or maybe something more dramatic than that – maybe he’d be hanging from the 109 building above the Shibuya crossing like a ghastly scarecrow, waiting for everyone in Tokyo to see him. That’d give him all the attention he could ever want. 

The tabloids would change their tune quickly enough, mourning the loss of their golden boy no matter how tarnished he was, and the media circus that would result, only discussing the ethics of having a child in the spotlight after they’d already died for it, would be hilarious. Adachi smiled at the TV, glancing at the rain-splattered window to his right. He didn’t know when it would rain next, but he was going to be counting down the days. 

The ‘investigation team’ was scattered, and their leader was under his thumb. There was no one in the world who’d be able to spoil his fun and save the kid before fog came to Tokyo. He was going to savour every performance until the final curtain call, when the brat would never stand on a stage ever again.

_Poll: Are the Phantom Thieves Just?  
53%  
Anon: what are the phantom thieves doing???  
Anon: CRUSH MEDJED!!  
Anon: Is Akechi right…? :/  
Anon: my friend says akechi had a show at midnight?? anyone got a link???  
Anon: since when did akechi start doing tv shows??  
Anon: link plz_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Akechi wakes up in an unknown world, Sae Niijima realises that he may be missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments on the first chapter! I've loved seeing every single one, and I'm really glad that people are interested and like this so far!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

Akechi hadn’t turned up to work, and Sae Niijima was quickly running out of patience. One of the detectives who’d been brought in on the case told her that he’d had some urgent schoolwork that he needed to complete, despite it being the tail end of the summer break and knowing full well the urgency of the situation in the precinct. She’d thought Akechi knew how important this was, and had bitten back her frustration initially. It was only a day – they could cope without him for a day easily, but it was still a massive pain for her to have to put her actual work on hold and work as coordinator for a team that he had insisted he could handle. 

Then the following day rolled around, and not only was Akechi not at his desk with an apology by the time she entered the room, but he also seemed determined to ignore all of her calls. She found herself lurking outside the office, out of earshot of the other officers, hissing down the phone as she went through to voicemail _again_. 

“Akechi-kun, answer your damn phone. If you’re following a lead, then you need to keep us in the loop so that we know where you are. The Cleanse is _today_ , so if you’re working without actually letting us know what’s going on, then you’d better come back here with either the Phantom Thieves or a damn good explanation.” She let out a harsh sigh. “Call me back when you get this, and get to the station as soon as you can. I don’t have time to be running after you.”

She hung up and returned to her desk, unable to do anything but wait for Medjed to strike and hope that there was some sort of development that wasn’t catastrophic.

A few hours later, she got her wish. Medjed’s Cleanse was stopped in its tracks by the Phantom Thieves inexplicably managing to hack into their website, despite there being absolutely no evidence that the Thieves had such technical abilities – the so-called ‘Phantom Aficionado Website’ wasn’t necessarily simple, but there was nothing about it suggesting the kind of knowledge that would let them break into the website of an anonymous group of international hackers. That kind of thing smashed a hole through the profile she and Akechi had made together, suggesting that they weren’t high school students at all. After all, what high school students could be capable of such a feat? 

Maybe they’d somehow managed to get someone with such advanced computing knowledge on their side, or had paid for their services. Regardless, the situation had changed, and she needed to discuss these changes with Akechi – who still had yet to show his face. 

As the SIU Director summoned her to his office, no doubt to interrogate her on how exactly the Phantom Thieves had managed to turn the tables on Medjed without revealing themselves or their identities, she inwardly cursed Akechi for leaving her to this debacle while he was off doing whatever he liked. When he finally made his appearance, he’d have hell to pay. 

*

Goro came to sitting upright on an uncomfortable leather couch, with a splitting headache that throbbed along with his heartbeat. He grimaced, uttering a tired groan as he raised a hand to his head, gazing blearily around himself. Even half-conscious he still felt panic ignite in his chest – waking up in an unfamiliar location, head pounding and with no immediate recollection of why exactly he was there was never a good sign – but aside from the headache he seemed physically fine, and although there was a yellow haze over everything that would no doubt start straining his eyes the more he tried to see through it, it didn’t look like a sketchy hotel room. He’d heard of all sorts of things happening to idols when the cameras weren’t rolling, and while he wasn’t an idol he still had ‘passionate’ fans who had started turning on him since Kaneshiro had turned himself in, and knew executives who liked looking at him like he was a slab of meat. He had to admit he was a little relieved to see that whatever this situation was, it wasn’t _that_.

He couldn’t see much around him with the fog, but he could see studio lights and the garish colours of a bright, familiar set, the reds and blues around him chosen to be eye-catching rather than attractive. It looked like the station where he had recorded that piece discussing the Phantom Thieves for the first time back in June, where he’d met Ren and the other two. He could see some cameras pointed his way, and the panic intensified. Was he supposed to be doing a recording here? No, he was supposed to be at the precinct, making up excuses for Shido and the SIU Director while the Phantom Thieves sat on their asses and did nothing about Medjed, they wouldn’t be interviewing him unless something had changed-

Had something changed? Had the plan fallen apart somehow, the Phantom Thieves failing and the real Medjed attacking Japan anyway before the IT president could stop them? Had Shido or one of his other cronies drugged him before setting him loose on an interview, intent on destroying his reputation as punishment, treating the failure as his fault?

His head was still pounding, the fog wasn’t clearing so something had to be wrong with his vision, but as he looked around himself with a forced casualness, trying to get his bearings as his heart raced – he had to salvage this somehow, he couldn’t let himself be ruined so easily – he caught sight of the thing sitting on the couch opposite him. They were angled toward him, one leg crossed neatly over the other, elbow propped up on the arm of the couch and resting their chin on their fist. Their other hand was in their lap, the chain connecting their wrists pulled taut. 

They were observing him with an almost clinical interest, golden eyes that cut through the fog like car headlights staring intensely at his face, and aside from the shackles and the eyes, they were a perfect imitation of himself. Goro abruptly remembered that detective grabbing him in the break room and shoving him into the television set, and the figure he had seen before he’d passed out. 

So this was a completely different kind of nightmare, then.

“Hello there,” the other Goro Akechi said, his voice the slightly higher cadence that he put on to keep up his charming persona. “How are you feeling? You’ve been unconscious for a while.”

“Where am I?” Goro demanded, his hands curling into fists in his lap. He was a little relieved to not feel cold steel shifting around his own wrists at the motion. 

“Ah, turning the question back to me?” the other Akechi said with the half smile he had perfected for television. It looked plastic and warped on this thing’s face. “Here and there, I suppose. Why don’t you tell me where we are?” He looked around himself, but his eyes didn’t stray from Goro’s for long. “This world is your creation, after all.”

_My Palace?_ Goro thought immediately, and then disregarded it. He’d tried to search for his Palace in the Nav, and had concluded that he didn’t have one – he didn’t even have a Shadow in Mementos. After searching the names of all of the Phantom Thieves as they’d made themselves known and coming up blank, it seemed as though lacking a Shadow was a trait common to Persona-users. 

But he still couldn’t feel Loki or Robin Hood, and he had seen enough Shadows over the last few years to be fairly certain that the thing sitting opposite him was his own, as much as he wanted to deny it and how uncomfortable it was looking at what was essentially himself. He imagined that this would probably be harder for someone who hadn’t grown painfully used to observing his own face and mannerisms in order to become more palatable to the public, but looking at this thing still made him want to tear its face off. 

“Are you my Shadow?” he asked. Might as well get confirmation before moving on. 

“I am thou, thou art I,” the other Akechi said, smirking like they shared a secret and topping it off with a wink. There were a series of titters from the invisible audience surrounding them, and Goro’s skin crawled. He took in the Shadow’s flirtatious, charming air, and the shackles around his wrists, and came to a conclusion. 

“You’re not my will of rebellion.” He meant to phrase it as a question, but it came out as a statement instead. 

The Shadow’s smile curled slightly. “Also correct. But my my, this is beginning to feel like an interrogation!” Canned laughter rang out around them, exacerbating Goro’s headache. “May I also ask some questions?” 

Goro considered denying him, but then he thought of all other Shadows he had met, every single one of them violent. This one may be civil for now, but he knew enough of his own nature to doubt that his own Shadow would stay that way for too long. He didn’t have his Personas, he didn’t have any weapons, so he couldn’t afford to get on its bad side.

“Of course,” he answered with a forced smile, and the Shadow’s own grin widened. 

“Thank you very much.” This smile looked a little closer to his genuine one. It had more teeth. “Tell me, Goro Akechi. Why do you deserve to die?”

A cold shiver shot up his spine at that, but he kept his own smile fixed in place. 

“Is that a threat?” he asked, voice mild, and the Shadow gave a light chuckle. 

“Oh, no, it’s merely a question. If I wanted to do you harm, I simply would.” He narrowed his golden eyes ever so slightly. “I don’t appreciate the attempt to misdirect, however. I would like you to answer me.”

Goro rolled his tongue over his teeth. They seemed to be alone here, in some quiet corner of the Metaverse, but the thought of saying any of this aloud was alarming. _How much do you value the truth?_ that voice had asked him, so there was a chance that the truth may set him free. Perhaps if he told the truth, the exit would become clear. 

He tilted his head to the side and regarded the Shadow watching him. Or maybe telling the truth here would condemn him.

“Do I gain anything by answering you honestly?” he asked. “My Personas back, by any chance?”

Amusement flickered across the Shadow’s face. 

“An answer for an answer,” he promised in a sickly sweet voice that Goro didn’t trust for a second, but had no choice but to acquiesce to.

“Very well then.” He raised a hand to his chin, trying not to grimace as all of the spotlights seemed to suddenly turn on him, even though the fog didn’t abate in the slightest. Still, they weren’t real – there was no one here but himself and the Shadow. No one else would hear whatever he confessed. “I imagine it’s for the various crimes I’ve committed over the years in the Metaverse.”

Inexplicably, the Shadow laughed. “Oh, come now,” he said softly, “I’m you. I know that you don’t really care about any of that. If you actually cared about any of your victims, you would fall apart every time you did what you had to do, and that would ruin the plan.” He paused for a moment. “Do you remember the train crash in April? Of course you do, I wouldn’t if you didn’t.” He uncrossed his legs, leaning towards Goro and lowering his voice to something conspiratorial. “Eighty victims, Goro. Some of them are still in the hospital, remembering how to walk. _We_ did that.”

Goro had read somewhere that sometimes the higher the number of casualties in a disaster, the harder it was for people to sympathise with the victims. When it was one victim it was so much more personal, so much easier to empathise with what horrors they were going through. But when it was no longer faces and names and simply numbers, the mind struggled to comprehend the suffering involved and so brushed it aside. He had reminded himself of that back in April when he had seen the news, seen the number eighty, and felt absolutely nothing for any of them. 

He still felt nothing even now.

“Why mention this then, if you know that I don’t care?” he asked, and the Shadow’s smile shone like a sickle. 

“Because you know that we _should_ care. Sometimes it worries you that we don’t. You wonder if something is broken in you because you’re numb to all of this, and if it is broken, then who is responsible? Who broke you so badly that you can’t find a trace of empathy for those caught in the crossfire of your schemes? And, if you’ve always been like this, if this numbness is just a part of who you are, then who did you inherit it from? Is this another thing of his that you’ve grown into, like the violence?” His golden eyes flashed. “Or is it _hers?”_

Goro gritted his teeth, his jaw aching as he fought to keep up the smile, and he stood up even though his head spun with the movement. “As entertaining as this is, I’ve had enough. How do I leave?” 

The Shadow blinked up at him, his own smile dimming. “I am you. Why would I have information that you don’t?”

“You’re a resident of this world. You must have noticed something in here.” 

The Shadow didn’t answer, and Goro’s irritation rose. 

“If you are my Shadow, then if you disappear I’ll regain my Personas, correct?” he asked instead. 

“That makes logical sense, considering your knowledge of Shadows.”

“Then how do I make you disappear?” 

He half-expected the Shadow to react angrily to that – most Shadows he had come across had a strong sense of self-preservation – but instead he just regarded him curiously. 

“You must accept me as a part of yourself.”

Goro blinked, looking at this golden eyed thing with his face, so comfortable preening to the cameras. Was that all?

“Fine,” he said, holding out a hand. “I accept you.”

There was silence for a long moment, the Shadow looking between his face and his hand before beginning to laugh. It wasn’t the coy, made for TV laugh of before, but instead something sharper, harsher, more of a bark. Goro dropped his hand, waiting for the Shadow’s laughter to abate. 

“Did you really believe it would be that simple?” he asked. He looked at Goro like he was stupid, but kept smiling. “You have to _mean_ it. And that’s our problem, isn’t it? We’ve never said a word we’ve meant in our entire lives.” He shrugged. “But don’t worry, I’m not too upset that you don’t accept me. Honestly, it’s a bit of a relief.” His lip curled. “I’d hate to have to be a part of _you_.”

Goro didn’t visibly react to the sudden shift, but he couldn’t say he was particularly surprised that an extension of himself would hate him. He simply hummed and stepped away from the couch, looking for a clear exit out of the studio. There was the quiet rustle of clothing moving and the clink of chains, and when he looked over his shoulder he saw his Shadow climbing to his feet as well, brushing down his jacket. Goro paused, raising an eyebrow as he watched him, and the Shadow fixed him with a bright smile. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to explore on your own?” the Shadow asked, feigning surprise. “This is a dangerous place. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

“How kind. However, I’m sensing an ulterior motive.”

The Shadow chuckled. “Of course you do – everyone has an ulterior motive. No one wants to spend time with you without getting something out of it; our every relationship is transactional. Why wouldn’t that extend to your other self? After all, you’re no different – you also only spend time with others when it benefits you. Although, your motivation isn’t always the furthering of your grand plans.” He offered up his shackled hands. “You’re the only other person here. It doesn’t matter if I can’t stand looking at you, or hearing you speak. I need you to keep looking at me.” Goro froze, but his Shadow continued. “Someone always needs to be looking at me, talking about me. It doesn’t matter why, so long as they’re looking my way.” He smiled again, but it was a wild-eyed, desperate thing. “So I’m staying with you.”

“You have an audience,” Goro reminded him, deciding not to think about the implications of his words or give into the building urge to punch his Shadow in the jaw. “They’re all watching you.”

“Right now, all who are watching us are Shadows, drawn here by our will,” the other Akechi said. “They don’t count. But you’re right, if someone else arrives who can give me attention, then I’ll be sure to find them. Maybe they’ll even love me! It’s a long shot, I know, but there has to be someone in the world who will love me, doesn’t there?”

Goro ground his teeth together and kept walking, his hands balled into fists as he stepped off of the set and began to follow the long corridor deeper into this imitation of the TV station, the path illuminated by spotlights. There was the quiet, continuous clink of the chains as the Shadow walked alongside him, but Goro pointedly ignored him. He wouldn’t acknowledge him unless he was forced to, and with any luck he would find some sort of exit before too long. 

He doubted that his Shadow would let him leave easily, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. 

*

It had been days since Medjed’s defeat, and Akechi still hadn’t turned up to the precinct. 

His continued absence and the abrupt surge in popularity for the Phantom Thieves meant that they could no longer afford to let the borrowed officers return to their own jurisdictions, and meant that Sae was now in charge of what was effectively her own task force. This would have been everything she’d ever wanted… if Akechi hadn’t disappeared with half of their case notes, and if there had been one single prosecutor in Tokyo who was willing to take on some of her caseload so that she could focus on the Phantom Thieves instead. 

So instead she was running herself ragged, trying to point officers who were new to Tokyo in the right direction and field all of their questions and requests while having three cases to bring to court in the upcoming weeks. It was taking everything she had just to keep her head above water and not drown beneath the workload that would have been shared if her assistant had bothered to show his face and do his damn job. 

She had been trying her best to leave work outside her apartment after snapping at Makoto at the start of summer, but every day that she actually made it home she had been forced to take case files with her, trying to finish the reports that she hadn’t managed to get to during the day. To her credit, Makoto seemed to be keeping her head down and staying out of her way, but when she caught sight of her studying at the table, poring over exam materials that she must have gotten from her cram school – the same cram school that Akechi went to, she was certain – Sae couldn’t stop herself. Surely her sister must have some information – she must have seen him over the last few days.

“Makoto.” 

Makoto flinched violently at the sound of her name, almost messing up her kanji, but immediately straightened in her seat and looked straight at Sae. 

“Yes, Sis?” she asked, folding her hands in front of her and waiting patiently, like she was in school and Sae was her teacher. For a moment Sae wondered when Makoto had stopped looking at her like a sister and had started looking at her solely as an authority figure, but she quickly pushed such thoughts aside. Now wasn’t the time for idle musings. 

“Have you been busy over the last few days?” she asked, and watched for her reaction. 

Makoto blinked at her, seeming to take a moment to process the question, and her brows drew together ever so slightly like they always did when she was mulling something over. Probably trying to work out what her angle was, if Sae had to guess. But then her expression smoothed slightly, something softening in her eyes. 

“Um, yes,” she answered tentatively. “This afternoon I was spending time with friends – I’ve made a new friend who suffers from social anxiety, so we’ve been trying to help her get more comfortable around others. We’re planning to go to the beach at the end of the week.”

Irrelevant. She’d have to steer her in the right direction. 

“What about cram school?” she asked, and watched as the hopeful expression on Makoto’s face crumpled.

“I’m still studying,” she replied, a little more curt as she gestured to the materials laid out in front of her, and Sae scowled. “I haven’t compromised my work.”

“That’s not what I meant. Have you been to cram school over the last few days?” 

“I… I went yesterday,” Makoto told her, still guarded. “It’s only been available three times a week, today was a day off.”

“And the workload? Have they been giving you a lot of work to do?”

“No more than usual,” Makoto said, frowning. “I… I haven’t been wasting my time on frivolities, if that’s what you’re worried about-”

When had it become so exhausting to speak with Makoto? Why was everything Sae said an assessment of her character, even when this had nothing to do with her? 

“You go to the same cram school as Akechi-kun, correct?” Sae interrupted, before Makoto could stray further off the mark.

“Y-yes? Yes, I do.”

“Has he been struggling with the workload for some reason? Was he given extra work when you went yesterday?”

“What?” Makoto was gawking at her like an idiot, and Sae bit back the urge to snap at her. How was she struggling with such basic questions? “A-Akechi-kun wasn’t at the school yesterday.”

Sae paused, suddenly thrown off. “Excuse me?”

“He wasn’t at school,” Makoto repeated. Her posture was becoming hunched, her shoulders drawing together as she made herself smaller, and she averted her eyes like she was upset somehow. Was she disappointed that Akechi hadn’t been there? She didn’t have a crush on him or something, did she? “He hasn’t been in school for the last week or so – we all assumed that he was busy at the station, and yesterday I overheard some students saying that he was probably laying low because of what people have been saying about him online after Medjed, and that show he was on.”

“A show?” Sae repeated, rage beginning to swell inside her. He couldn’t turn up at the station, but he could go on one of his talkshows while Japan was facing an unprecedented crisis? 

“I haven’t seen it,” Makoto immediately said, like that was in any way helpful. “From what I heard, it was something that played at midnight last time it rained, and he talked about himself. I don’t know any of the specifics.”

“But he hasn’t turned up at school?” Sae asked, turning the conversation back to its main point. That was the most important piece of information from Makoto’s testimony, but it didn’t make sense. If he wasn’t at school, and he wasn’t at the station, then where could he be? 

“No, he hasn’t. Why are you asking about him, Sis? I thought you’d both be working together on the Phantom Thieves case-”

“We should have been,” Sae said sharply, and Makoto didn’t quite hide her flinch. She took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself a little, and checked her watch. Tomorrow she would be far too busy to chase after him, but… “Do you have any plans tomorrow, Makoto?” 

“Um, not really,” her sister answered, and Sae gave a curt nod. She reached for the neat stack of blank post-it notes beside Makoto and one of her pens, pulling it toward herself and scrawling an address onto the paper. She felt Makoto’s eyes on her as she tore the note from the top of the stack and offered it up. 

“This is Akechi-kun’s address,” she told her. “Could you go there tomorrow and check up on him? Just make sure that he isn’t ill or something. If he isn’t there, inform me immediately. But if he is, then tell him to get to the station – none of us have the time to run after him right now.”

Makoto’s lips twitched, like she was about to say something to argue, but she bit it back and took the note. “...Okay,” she said softly, and Sae nodded. 

“Keep me updated,” she said, moving away from the table and over to the couch, where she’d discarded her bag. She still needed to finish her report before tomorrow, and this conversation, as brief as it was, had eaten up too much of her time already. 

She left Makoto to her studies, carrying her laptop into her room seeing as her sister was already taking up most of the table. She thought she heard Makoto sigh softly as she closed the door behind her, as she often did – but, as always, she didn’t leave the room to check. 

She still had so much work to do. 

*

Akechi’s apartment complex wasn’t quite the grand building that Makoto associated with teenage celebrities. She had expected something sleeker, all clean white walls and enormous glass windows, but the building was pretty much the same as the one she shared with her sister, aside from being a slightly newer build and closer to Shibuya. Even so, she’d still taken three wrong turns before managing to find it – and she only really realised that she was in the right place when she caught sight of a paparazzi lingering on the pavement opposite the building, conspicuously holding onto a large camera. 

Makoto pointedly ignored them and walked with purpose up to the building’s front doors, only double-checking the note that Sae had given her when she had stepped over the threshold. She wished that she’d had the courage to question her the previous night, rather than just agree – or at least get Sae to give her some idea of what to say if he answered the door. She seriously doubted that Akechi would be happy to see her; she could already picture the smile on his face as he asked her if she had nothing better to do than to serve as her sister’s secretary. Maybe he’d even accuse her of being a stalker.

She sighed inwardly as she crossed the foyer, hurrying to the elevator that would take her to Akechi’s floor. The sooner she got this over with, the better. 

His door was near the end of the hall, and Makoto checked the note one final time before straightening her spine and staring at the number nailed to it to confirm that she was in fact in the right place. She knocked twice, hard, and folded her hands behind her back as she listened for any movement behind the door. There wasn’t a sound, and Makoto pursed her lips. The separate apartment doors weren’t very far apart, but that potentially meant that they were more deep than wide. Perhaps his bedroom was at the back, and he hadn’t heard her? 

“Akechi-kun?” she called, knocking harder. “It’s Makoto Niijima, my sister asked me to check up on you.” As soon as the words passed her lips she regretted them – that’d be the first thing he’d question her about, why she was here and not her sister if things were so urgent – but as she paused to collect herself again she still heard not a single sound from behind the door. There was nothing to so much as suggest that he was there, and Makoto frowned. 

If he wasn’t here, and he hadn’t been to the police station or cram school… where was he? 

She tried knocking one final time, but got no response whatsoever. She reluctantly stepped away from the door, casting her gaze around for any sight of a neighbour that she could talk to, but the hall was empty and she could hear no noise from any of the other apartments either. Most likely, all of his neighbours were already in work. 

She sighed quietly to herself and made her way out of the building, pulling her phone out of her pocket to call Sae. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if her sister didn’t answer – she must be busy with work, although the situation with Akechi must have been bothering her if she was willing to stoop so low as to ask Makoto for help. 

She paused with her thumb hovering over her sister’s name, and a flicker of movement caught her eye. The paparazzi was still there, lowering his camera with a grimace, like he was hoping for someone else to have stepped out of the building. A thought occurred to her, and Makoto pursed her lips before tucking away her phone and walking straight up to the man. His eyes widened a little as he seemed to realise that she was, in fact, approaching him, and he reached up with the hand not holding his camera to smooth down one side of his greasy hair. 

“Excuse me,” Makoto said, channelling the authority and professionalism that had served her so well in her position on the student council. “Are you waiting here for Akechi-kun?” 

The man scanned her face, assessing. 

“I might be,” he said, starting slowly but speaking faster with every word. “You just went into the building, right? Are you a friend of his? Are you giving him some company while he ignores the general public’s calls to issue a statement after Medjed’s defeat at the hands of the Phantom Thieves?”

Makoto blinked, taken aback by the abrupt questioning. “He wasn’t in there,” she told him, and the man frowned. 

“Don’t lie to me, he has to be in there – I’ve been camping out here for days to find him, and he hasn’t shown up once!” His brows drew together. “Is he staying with a friend until the heat dies down? It isn’t going to fade that easily – the Phantom Thieves have proven themselves to be just, so where is his response?”

“He isn’t going to give you a statement,” Makoto said, stepping away from him. “You might want to move on, though. If you’ve been loitering outside a private residence with a camera for days, then it’s only a matter of time before someone calls the police.”

She hurried away from both the man and the apartment, making sure that she was far enough away to avoid him eavesdropping when she finally called Sae. She didn’t expect her to actually answer, so when she did she was almost too startled to speak. 

_“Was he there?”_ was the first thing Sae said, and Makoto debated being petulant and not answering until she actually greeted her before deciding that it wasn’t worth the effort. 

“No,” Makoto answered. “He didn’t answer the door. I don’t think he was there.” She hesitated. “There was a man across the street with a camera – I spoke to him and he said that Akechi-kun hasn’t been back to his apartment in days.”

_“Days?”_ Sae repeated. She actually sounded alarmed, and Makoto frowned. She’d assumed that Sae was just angry that he’d been shirking his work, but there was real concern in her sister’s voice now. She heard Sae take in a deep breath. _“I see.”_

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Makoto asked. 

_“You’ve done enough,”_ Sae said, but it was almost gentle. _“I’ll probably be back late tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”_

She hung up without another word, and Makoto sighed softly before tucking her phone away in her pocket and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Same old Sis. It looked like she was going to be having dinner alone again tonight.

*

Honestly, Adachi had never expected it to take so long for someone to notice that Tokyo’s golden boy was missing. Every single one of the kids in Inaba had been reported right away, their parents – or grandparents, in Kujikawa and Shirogane’s cases – calling it in even when their precious babies had only been gone for five minutes, caring enough about them to not want to waste any time. The fact that this kid who apparently had the eyes of the whole city on him had spent the better part of a week in a TV set with no one even suspecting that he was missing was absolutely hilarious. Clearly the media finally had it right – no one actually gave a shit about him. 

It had been fun to see how the media had changed their tune the minute the Phantom Thieves’ logo had shown up on Medjed’s website, deciding that now some child had proven themselves wrong it was perfectly acceptable to throw them under the bus, but it had been even more fun to see all the colour drain from Niijima’s face as she realised that maybe her precious assistant wasn’t ignoring her calls for the fun of it. After she’d gotten off the phone she’d turned to the closest available officer and demanded that they drop what they’re doing to arrange a warrant to enter Akechi’s apartment, because apparently there wasn’t anyone she could call up to check up on him who had his spare key. 

Adachi had overheard and had decided that he couldn’t just ignore the golden opportunity that had been given to him. He went straight to Niijima, telling her all about his vast experience with missing persons’ cases – including the idol Rise Kujikawa, and wasn’t Akechi-kun kinda like an idol now anyway? – and how he would be more than happy to check up on Akechi’s apartment with the warrant and make a detailed report of anything unusual. He reminded her that there weren’t many leads in the Phantom Thieves case and how Akechi’s safety should be all of their priority, and he had a front row seat to how her ice queen persona cracked just for a moment, betraying her pathetic, bleeding heart. 

She let him go, and was so distracted by the thought of the kid actually being in danger that she didn’t argue when he suggested that he go alone. So, after flashing the warrant to a bemused landlady and finally getting that elusive spare key, Adachi found himself stepping into the apartment of his latest victim. The old woman had reminded him a lot of the bored housewives around Inaba who had nothing better to do than to gossip, and he imagined that it would only be a matter of time before she was crossing the road to let that guy with a camera know that the police had turned up at Akechi-kun’s door with a warrant. It was all so easy it almost felt like cheating. 

However, the grin that had been on his face since he had left the landlady slipped slightly when he crossed the threshold and saw the utter normalcy of the apartment in front of him. Well, maybe ‘normalcy’ was the wrong word – the sight of the open plan space, utterly barren of any personal touch or anything so much as suggesting that someone actually lived here, definitely wasn’t what he’d call ‘normal’. But still he closed the door behind him, gaze sweeping over the room. 

There was a low table in the middle of the space and one single cushion set before it, a higher table that was piled high with textbooks accompanied by two chairs also stacked with papers, and a plain white kitchenette that was barren aside from a fruit bowl containing only apples. There was a medium-sized TV on a stand against one of the walls, facing the low table and the kitchenette, but while there was an old DVD player and a neat stack of DVDs with worn cases piled beside it, there were no games consoles or anything else suggesting that this place belonged to a teenager.

There were two closed doors at the end of the room, a bedroom and a bathroom presumably, and Adachi strode toward them both, neatly stepping around the table.

“Akechi-kun?” he called, a smile in his voice. “Have you somehow managed to crawl back out of the TV?”

There was no answer, of course, and as he opened the bedroom door he saw a small room with a futon rolled up against the wall beside a shiny new robot vacuum, a wardrobe and dresser combo built into the wall, and a phone charger sticking out of the plug socket. Adachi clicked his tongue and stepped further into the room, looking for any sign of a personal touch, but the only thing on the wall was an annotated calendar, all the days diligently crossed off up to and including the eighteenth. A drab little cell for the child detective whose inner self had chains on his wrists.

Pulling plastic gloves on he crouched down and tugged the phone charger loose, wrapping the cable around the plug as best as he could before tucking it away in his inner jacket pocket, right next to the phone it corresponded to. Akechi’s phone had died somewhere around the ninth missed call, and seeing as it was a much fancier model than either of his own phones neither of Adachi’s own chargers were compatible. He’d finally be able to see if he’d gotten any texts or voicemails in the meantime, and to try to crack his lockscreen again. He’d tried a couple of times when he was back in the hotel room, angling the screen toward the light in an attempt to see any fingerprint smears that might give away a code, but he hadn’t gotten lucky. However, with the charger’s USB cable, he might be able to connect it to his laptop and simply copy across any information that was saved to the device, gaining access to anything the kid had saved on there. 

Even if it wasn’t set to rain tonight, at least he’d have an entertaining evening. 

He left the bedroom, ducking his head into the bathroom so that he could tell Niijima he’d been thorough in his search, and made his way back toward the door. As he did so he caught his foot against the edge of the low table, knocking it a little askew, and he bit back a quiet curse. Then he stood there for a moment, looking at the slight change to the apartment, and the seed of an idea began to form in his mind. 

Over the years, Adachi had seen a lot of crime scenes. Had caused a lot of them over the last five years too, although most of the time he made Narukami do the dirty work and tidy up the evidence. 

How hard would it be, to fabricate a crime scene instead?

He stood in front of the door, scanning the apartment critically. If he’d forced his way into an apartment to kidnap a celebrity, how would he do it? The apartment being surrounded by others and far from the elevator meant that they couldn’t bring the struggle into the hall, so Akechi would have had to be incapacitated inside and then carried out without any of his neighbours noticing. 

There wasn’t too much he could do to simulate a struggle in such a bare space, but he’d make do. He shouldn’t stifle his creativity, after all.

Poor Niijima had been so upset at the thought of something having happened to her assistant without her noticing. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realised he wasn’t getting out of this alive.

*

Sae stood in the doorway of Akechi’s ruined apartment, stunned into silence. Distantly, at the back of her mind, she was cataloguing the damage as her gaze fell on each damaged item in turn, but the thoughts that kept appearing at the forefront of her mind were useless, inconsequential things. That the papers and textbooks that were scattered across the floor were the same as the ones Makoto had on their kitchen counter at home, down to the library label on the spine; that the chair lying on its side with a broken leg would have to be broken down and thrown away. That the low table that had been kicked almost across the room had marks on the sides that suggested it doubled as a kotatsu in winter, the duvet having been moved elsewhere for summer. That the mug that had presumably been perched on the table lay shattered into pieces near the wall, whatever pattern had been on it indistinguishable now, lost in fragments of red and gold. 

Akechi’s careful apartment had been thrown completely in disarray in an obvious attack, and for a moment all Sae could think of was how much of a pain it would be for him to clean up.

The detective she had sent to investigate – Adachi, she thought his name was – had sounded distressed on the phone when he had told her that there were signs of a struggle, but this was so much worse than she had expected. The only comfort she could take was that there didn’t seem to be any traces of blood, but as the forensic team she had brought with her got to work photographing the scene she still felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest as guilt threatened to strangle her. She had been so certain that he was fine, but this wreckage showed her just how wrong she had been.

Adachi was giving his statement to one of the officers from the missing persons’ unit, while Sae still stood in the doorway and tried to parse the scene that was before her. The door had been locked, but it was obvious that someone (or perhaps multiple people) had made their way inside, either forcing their way in once Akechi had answered the door or by being invited, and a struggle had ensued. Someone would have to interrogate his immediate neighbours to see if he’d had any visitors lately, or if they had heard anything, but surely wouldn’t someone have reported something amiss if they had? 

One of the other officers had stepped past the chaos of the main room to check the bathroom and the bedroom, and inside they had found a calendar, all days crossed off up until the eighteenth. He’d been in work on the nineteenth, she’d seen him, but he clearly hadn’t been able to mark the end of the day.

The nineteenth was over a week ago now. Akechi had been missing over a week – had probably been kidnapped, abducted from his own home where he should have been _safe_ – and no one had checked up on him in all that time. She’d just assumed that he was staying away for his own reasons that he hadn’t bothered to disclose, but the whole time he was missing, and probably in danger. So why had no one known? Why had his kidnappers not asked for a ransom if they truly had abducted a public figure, even if Makoto was right and he was no longer as popular as he had been prior to Medjed’s defeat? 

Statistically, most survivors of a kidnapping were rescued within the first twenty-four hours of their disappearance. Chances of survival dropped dramatically with every day, and Akechi had almost been missing for ten. 

“Niijima-san, are you alright?” 

The voice startled her out of her thoughts, and her gaze fell on the detective she’d sent here with the warrant. Adachi was looking at her with a tentative smile on his face, his eyes soft, and Sae forced a neutral expression. 

“I’m fine,” she said, voice curt. “Someone needs to pull any CCTV footage of this corridor on the nineteenth and twentieth, and all of the following week just to be sure. We need to chase up absolutely anyone who spoke with Akechi-kun in the weeks leading up to his disappearance, and interview any and all of his friends.” She glanced over the crime scene again, lips pursed tight. “Is there any sign of his phone or his laptop?”

“None,” Adachi said apologetically. “It looks like whoever was in here took them along too.” Sae let out a breath through her teeth. 

“I see. We’ll need to check social media, see where he’s been, who he’s interacted with.”

“Of course, we’ll get right onto it.” Adachi didn’t move away from her, and when she looked at him sharply he gave her a small, insufferably pitying smile. “I know it looks bad, but I’m sure he’ll be okay. This is the best police force in Japan – if anyone can find him, it’ll be us!”

His unsolicited opinion and baseless optimism did nothing for her mood, and Sae barely held herself back from snapping at him. 

“...Just do your work,” she said eventually, turning away from him and casting another sweeping glance over the apartment, at the destruction left by whoever had caused his absence.

_Whoever did this, I won’t let them get away with it,_ she vowed, fingers slowly curling into fists. _I will find you._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi delves deeper into the studio, and the Midnight Channel has its second performance.

It seemed that no matter how many steps Goro took away from the couch he had woken up on, he couldn’t make his way out of the studio of his mind. 

Every turn he took simply led to another empty room filled with cameras, every door he pushed open either led to a dead end or to more set pieces and gaudy scenery. There was no one else around, not even cognitions or Shadows crawling about, but Goro had stumbled across a few treasure chests sitting at the end of empty halls. He’d hesitated before opening the first, wondering if by stealing something supposedly interwoven with his psyche he would somehow damage himself, but the possibility that there would be a sword or a gun he could use inside was too great for him to pass up. However, he’d had no such luck – every treasure chest he could open just held leaves and energy drinks to help with his stamina rather than give him any way to defend himself. 

His Shadow self lingering at his heels cracked a bright smile every time Goro failed to obtain a weapon, as though his helplessness amused it. The Shadow hadn’t left him yet, choosing to follow him a foot or so behind, close enough for Goro to constantly feel its golden eyes on the back of his neck, raising the hairs there and constantly reminding him that it would be so easy for the thing to loop the chain between its wrists around his throat, strangling him while his back was turned. It hadn’t lashed out yet – had barely spoken a word since they’d left the couches behind and began exploring this endlessly repeating maze of a studio – but Goro suspected that it was simply biding its time. 

It didn’t help that he could barely see where he was going, the yellow fog obscuring everything more than a few feet in front of him, and his headache still hadn’t abated. It felt like there were knives constantly being driven into the side of his skull, but no matter how much he wanted to just sit down and wait for this to stop he didn’t dare stop moving. He had the impression that the moment he did the Shadow would take that opportunity to strike – whether with words or actions. 

Goro pushed open yet another door, squinting into the fog and the spotlights that barely cut through it, and bit back a curse at the sight of another repeated backstage room. He’d gotten too used to extravagant Palaces – the repetitive monotony of this studio inside a television set was going to drive him insane.

“Are you getting bored, detective?” the Shadow asked, and Goro scowled. 

“Are you affecting the topography of this place?” he demanded, ignoring the Shadow’s question. “Does the environment bend around you as the ruler, so you always have to be in the centre?” 

“An interesting hypothesis,” the Shadow mused, and Goro contemplated just throttling the thing, damn the consequences. “But we don’t have enough evidence to suggest anything one way or the other.”

Goro ground his teeth together. “Are you completely incapable of saying anything useful?” he barked, and the Shadow’s face split into a delighted smile. 

“Oh, of course not,” it said. “I used to be capable of a great many logical leaps – everything I said had everyone eating out of the palm of my hand. Everyone loved what I had to say, wanted to hear more of it, wanted to _see me._ Anyone who claimed they didn’t was merely jealous – some of my greatest detractors would watch me religiously, scanning my face and searching desperately for something to hate, whilst their greatest hatred was aimed inward, because they weren’t me.”

“Used to be?” Goro repeated, those words sticking in his mind despite the pounding headache that seemed to just get worse whenever he directly addressed the Shadow, as though his very self didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

The Shadow’s expression faltered for a brief moment. “You haven’t seen how they’ve changed,” the Shadow said, almost wistfully. “You’ve been in here with me, but you don’t have the eyes to see the other side.” Its golden eyes glittered. “I can tell you what they have to say about you now, if you want to know.”

The words were a trap, Goro was sure. It was an obvious setup, a ploy for the Shadow to say something to get under his skin, to make him lash out while he still had no weapon, so that it could destroy him utterly. 

It didn’t stop the large part of him that craved attention from wanting to demand the answer, though. 

“You can keep that to yourself,” Goro said, and watched the curiosity in his Shadow’s eyes flicker and die. 

He turned away and kept walking, even if with every single step his skull felt like it was about to explode. There was another door at the end of the hall – an emergency exit door with a large push bar across it, like all of the others – and Goro braced himself for another empty hall or a treasure chest. He grabbed the handle in both hands and pushed it open, but froze in the doorway when a large staircase leading downward took up the space instead. 

_“Finally,”_ he sighed in relief, striding forward without a backward glance. His hand found the bannister and he took the first few steps down carefully, not wanting to risk slipping and plummeting down the rest of the way. He reached the bottom of the staircase quickly enough, and was greeted by yet another door. He pushed that open with renewed determination – if he had found one staircase he was bound to find another, and eventually he should reach the end of this place and escape. If it was just effectively a maze that he had to traverse, a maze with no hostile Shadows and semi-helpful items along the way, then he was bound to make it out of here much faster than he’d hoped. 

But the room beyond the door was different. Instead of an endless brightly lit studio, instead there were more red couches facing away from him, and in front of them was an enormous screen reaching from the floor to a good twelve feet high, stretching across the width of the hall he’d stepped out into and blocking the path ahead. Goro paused, unease filling him as he looked at the screen, and he almost jumped when his Shadow emerged from behind him and stepped forward, approaching the couch to the right. 

“Ah, I’ve been waiting for this,” the Shadow said cheerfully, sitting down and cupping its chin with both hands as it stared at the screen. When Goro didn’t move it looked over its shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why don’t you take a seat, Akechi-kun?”

Goro set his jaw, gaze flickering between the blank screen and the couches, looking for some other way out of the room and finding none. He breathed in deeply and headed for the left couch, sitting ramrod straight and staring ahead, keeping the Shadow in his periphery. He could still see it smiling out of the corner of his eye, even as the screen suddenly came to life. 

The scene opened in a familiar office, large windows behind a wooden desk, a cabinet of expensive liquor off to the left. And standing beside the desk, one hand holding a tumbler already half-full with amber liquid and the other gripping the side of his desk so that he could lean on it while standing straight and respectable, was Masayoshi Shido. He was staring straight at the camera with a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, that insufferable look that always insisted that he knew something you didn’t, and absently rolling his wrist, letting the whiskey move around the glass. Just the sight of the man alone had Goro gripping the couch cushions beneath him and squeezing, his eyes narrowing in disdain. 

“You’re certain these so-called Phantom Thieves will take the bait?” Shido said, and Goro immediately noted that his voice was already somewhat roughened by the alcohol in his hand, and that he’d have to tread a little more carefully. Shido was difficult to predict even when sober, his hair-trigger temper often set off by the slightest wrinkle in whatever plans he hadn’t deigned to share with him, but when he’d had a drink he was worse. It took a lot to make Shido truly drunk, but with every sip his inhibitions faded further, making him equally likely to give praise or hurl insults at whoever was in his path. 

It took Goro a moment to remember that Shido was on the other side of a screen and that he was merely an observer here – that whatever Shido had to say, for once it wasn’t his problem.

“Yes, Shido-san,” a voice said from behind the camera, and Goro’s eyes widened when he realised that it was his own. “Their pride won’t allow them to ignore such a challenge. And, if they prove to be incapable of rising to it, then we can make the IT president do the work and make it look like whatever they attempted to do to stop Medjed was successful.”

Hearing it back it seemed like such a foolish plan, but Shido’s face split into a grin nevertheless and he started to laugh. 

“That mind of yours, Akechi...” he mused, shaking his head. “I would never have thought to use such an organisation against these Thieves.”

And as familiar pride warmed him, Goro realised abruptly that this was a memory. This was his conversation with Shido mere weeks ago, just after ‘Medjed’ had announced the Cleanse. After Shido had said that he had smiled, ducked his head slightly, and said some pointless, dismissive comment that simply served as bait for another compliment. The pride cooled, embarrassment beginning to take its place now that he was a spectator to his own behaviour, and he waited for the next words to come from his mouth. He couldn’t see the point to watching this, but he suspected that once it was over he’d be able to move on. 

“Keep looking at me,” his Shadow whispered from his right, and Goro’s head snapped over to him. It was staring at Shido on the screen with a horrifying reverence, its eyes glittering and its nails sinking into its cheeks from where it was still cupping its face. “Keep telling me I’m smart. Keep telling me I’m good. Tell me you’re proud of me.”

“What are you-?” he began, but then Shido was talking again, the Shadow’s interruption having successfully drowned out whatever the Goro on the screen had said. 

“Don’t be so modest,” Shido stated, lip curling. “You have to own everything you do, don’t play it down. You should be proud of your brilliance.”

Again, the same swell of pride at the compliment, tinged with cold amusement that Shido hadn’t a single clue that he was praising his worthless bastard son. The Shadow let out a breathless little laugh, like it couldn’t quite believe that praise could be directed toward him, and Goro tightened his grip. 

“I get it,” he said curtly, talking over the rest of the scene as it played out on the enormous screen. “You’re attempting to humiliate me by calling attention to the fact that I enjoy compliments, as though _that_ is worse than the actual crimes that I’ve committed. _Everyone_ likes being complimented, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

The Shadow reluctantly tore its gaze away from the screen to regard him with wide-eyed surprise. 

“This isn’t humiliation,” the Shadow stated, looking at him like he was stupid for even suggesting such a thing. “This is self-reflection.” The screen opposite them went dark. “Do you remember what I asked you earlier, when you gave me the opportunity to question you as well?” 

Goro pursed his lips, glancing toward the dark screen and trying not to grimace when it didn’t fade away and bare the path forward, instead showing a warped reflection of himself and his Shadow. 

“You asked why I deserved to die,” Goro answered, and the Shadow nodded. 

“This world is a reflection of you, and your subconscious. You’ve been thinking about my question, and so the world is searching for an answer that you don’t want to acknowledge.”

Goro barked a laugh. “Are you trying to suggest that I subconsciously believe that I deserve to die simply because I accept compliments from _him?”_ he asked, voice dripping with derision, and the Shadow had the gall to roll its eyes. 

“Such a surface level conclusion,” it chided, shaking its head. “You need to think harder about what you’re seeing, and why you are seeing it. But don’t worry Akechi-kun. We’ve only travelled one floor. We have lots of time for you to use that detective’s intuition of yours and come to the correct conclusion.”

The large screen began to tremble, and with a quiet groan it began to sink downwards, disappearing into the floor. Goro climbed to his feet, not wanting to waste any more time than he had to, and was immediately hit with vertigo. As he tried to fight back the nausea and get his bearings, he heard the Shadow hum quietly. 

“It’s raining,” it said softly, and as Goro blinked and felt the pain in his head getting worse instead of better it turned to face him once more. “You may want to sit down. Something tells me that you aren’t going to stay awake for this.”

“What?” Goro began, but as soon as the word passed his lips the pain in his head became debilitating. His knees buckled and he slumped back onto the seat that he had just vacated. The Shadow smiled cheerfully at him, but as he stared he saw the skin around the Shadow’s eyes darkening to the ugly purples and greens of bruises, and a dark line carving its way up his lower lip. Goro watched in stunned silence as thin droplets of blood began to drip from his Shadow’s nose and lip, and it climbed to its feet as Goro struggled to so much as lift his head and track its movement with his eyes. 

“I’m afraid our audience awaits,” the Shadow said with a smile. More blood dribbled down its chin. “I’ll be back soon.”

Goro’s lips moved, trying to tell his Shadow to wait, to explain, but he couldn’t get the air to speak the words. His eyelids began to droop, the disorientation and pain overwhelming him, and the Shadow’s smile upon its damaged face was the last thing he saw before his consciousness slipped away.

*

Sae stepped back into her apartment not long after eleven at night, practically shaking with frustration. She’d gone straight to the SIU director after leaving Akechi-kun’s apartment, but the man had been the exact opposite of helpful – telling her not to announce his disappearance to the general public to ‘avoid causing a panic’, despite the information his fans may be able to provide to help with the investigation. He’d played down the severity of it even as Sae had waved the photographs of his ruined apartment in his face, telling her to wait a few more days because he could simply be staying with a friend, as if the state of his home suggested anything less than a kidnapping. 

No matter what Sae had to say he wouldn’t change his mind, and when she eventually left his office in a much fouler mood than she had entered it in, she swore she could hear him talking to someone else on the phone, so eager to talk to someone other than her. She made her way back to her apartment simmering in her rage, wondering how the hell the man could live with himself knowing that he wasn’t acting while a teenager could be in danger. 

She dropped her bag on one of the chairs around the table as quietly as she could, knowing that Makoto was probably already in bed, and pulled out her laptop. She hadn’t had a chance to check Akechi’s social media during the day, but she needed to at least begin the process before she slept. If she could find his friends, then maybe they’d have information that she could use – maybe they’d know if he’d received any threats recently, or if he had seemed concerned about anything. 

Even with Makoto’s warning, she was unprepared for the torrent of abuse clogging up any mention of Akechi’s name. Pretty much every tweet or status that so much as mentioned Akechi was drenched in vitriol – a dozen insults to his intelligence, a hundred insults and threats about his appearance, everything leading back to the seemingly unforgivable crime of not believing in the Phantom Thieves. 

‘ace detective? more like ace defective lmao’  
‘hope someone breaks his fucking face’  
‘sanctimonious little prick’  
‘he’s emancipated? nah, his parents just couldn’t stand him anymore’  
‘fuck off and die #akechi’  
‘someone needs to teach him not to mess with the pt’

With every cruel comment she passed aimed toward a teenager who had done nothing but share his opinion, Sae grew more and more disgusted. Was this the true face of the Japanese public? How were so many people this vile, this desperate to feel better about themselves at the expense of someone else? 

For a moment she was almost thankful that it was unlikely that Akechi had seen any of this, before she reminded herself that she had a job to do. So she filtered out all posts from after Medjed’s Cleanse, and began to trawl through it all carefully in an attempt to find anything that could be used to try to find anyone who Akechi had been in contact with. 

It was creeping closer to midnight when she finally found something – Akechi had been tagged in multiple posts in an aquarium back in July, and as she scrolled through them all, taking in the frankly unnerving amount of candid photographs of Akechi at a distance, bathed in blue, she began to notice a consistent presence around him. In nearly every single photo was another boy with a mop of messy black hair, standing close enough to Akechi to imply that they had come to the aquarium together. There was something incredibly familiar about the boy, and although all of the photos clearly had Akechi in the foreground it wasn’t hard for her to find an unobstructed image of the other boy and stare at it with furrowed brows. 

She definitely recognised him from somewhere – she’d seen him in person not very long ago, she was certain, but _where?_ Maybe he was from Makoto’s school, but it was summer break, she couldn’t have seen him near Shujin. She was staring at his profile for an embarrassingly long moment before it occurred to her. 

Leblanc. He’d been at Leblanc, working part time behind the bar, and had walked in when she’d been trying to get information about cognitive psience out of Sojiro Sakura. He was the boy Sakura was overseeing the probation of.

So Akechi was friends with a delinquent on probation? Close enough with him to invite him to an aquarium, when a cursory glance over his social media suggested that Akechi was generally unwilling to spend any time hanging out with friends in a public place? That was certainly unexpected, but it was a lead. She’d have to see if there was anyone else who Akechi seemed happy to spend time with, but for now she would need to speak to the boy. She could corner him reliably at Leblanc, but she doubted that Sakura would be particularly happy to have her patronage again. The man’s preferences hardly mattered now, though – she wasn’t going to let something so inconsequential affect her investigation. 

She was in the process of writing a note to herself to look up the boy under probation before she tried to go to Leblanc when the clock on the wall ticked over to midnight, and the television made a sudden noise, making her jump. It sounded almost like an old aerial tuning in, and as her gaze flicked up towards it she stared as the screen began to glow a hazy, murky yellow. The TV wasn’t that old, and the remote was on the other side of the room, it shouldn’t have been able to turn itself on-

Sae watched as the screen cleared, the yellow fading and leaving the vivid image of a television studio that she vaguely recognised – was this where they filmed Good Morning Japan? - before the camera focused on a familiar face, and the pen slipped out of her hand. 

It was Akechi, wearing the same shirt, blazer and tie combo he usually wore when he went on TV, but he didn’t look well. 

His hands were shackled, which would have been disturbing enough, but there were speckles of red across his rumpled shirt collar, and dark blood slowly dripping from his nose and a gruesome split in his lower lip. He was staring serenely at the camera, like nothing at all was amiss, and he smiled brightly at the attention even though it opened the wound on his mouth wider. A fresh drop of blood beaded there, and as he spoke it painted his lips red. 

“Hello again, everyone! Once again this is the superior Detective Prince, Goro Akechi, gracing your television screens this fine evening.” He peered closely at the camera, seeming to look straight at Sae, and after a moment satisfaction shone in his face. “Ah, that’s much better. There are quite a few more of you this time, you must have been paying attention! Still not enough, though. I need every single eye in Tokyo set on me, and me alone.” He lifted one of his chained hands and delicately cradled his chin, turning his face to the left and the right as the camera lovingly focused on his bloody nose, his bleeding lip, the slightly red tinge to his teeth. 

“Do you like what you see?” he purred into the camera, the corner of his lips curving upward, like caught in a hook. “I’ve know what you’ve all been thinking about me recently, you know. After my failure, after I bet on the wrong side. That stupid little detective, how dare he go against what I believe in. How dare he be wrong, when he’s always so sure he’s right.” His smile disappeared as he stared straight into the camera, a hard edge creeping into his voice. “Someone should show him just how wrong he is. Someone should put him in his place, give him what he deserves, _teach him a lesson.”_

He pinched his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing it hard. More blood began to creep from the split skin, dripping down his chin and onto his shirt, adding more stains, and Sae found herself recoiling. 

“Is this what you want?” he asked, voice remarkably clear despite him partially holding his mouth open. “Does this make you happy, or is this not good enough either?” He withdrew his hand, the fingertips of his dark gloves now glistening red, and clicked his tongue. “Of course it’s not good enough. Nothing I do is ever good enough. Whether I’m performing or suffering, I never do it well enough for it to make any difference.” He glanced sharply at the camera, and desperation began to shine in his eyes. With each word he spoke he sounded more and more frantic, the camera trembling slightly as it focused on his bloody face. “I’ll do better though, I promise! I’ll do anything you want me to – I’ll bleed, I’ll beg for forgiveness, somehow I’ll put it right and be better, just for you. That’s what will make you happy, right? I’ll do anything to keep you happy, anything at all to keep you looking at me, to keep you loving me. I’ll even-” He cut off, his eyes abruptly going cold, and he let out a tiny laugh. “Well, I need to keep some things for next time, don’t I? If I spill everything right away, you won’t come back, and I need you to come back.” He smiled, dripping more blood. “Please, keep watching me. Keep looking at me. I’ll make it worth your while, and next time, I’ll make sure I give you all exactly what you want. I’ll even tell you some of my deepest, darkest secrets, so follow me and keep looking at me.”

The camera zoomed out, showing the boy fully as he walked away, the chains clattering as he moved. The camera lingered on the shot of the studio even as Akechi disappeared deeper into the fog at the back of the room, before it cut out. The television turned off once more, and left Sae staring at her pale-faced reflection in the dark glass, her mind racing as she tried to parse what she’d seen.

Akechi wasn’t an actor, she knew that for certain. All of his current fame had come from his detective work and his interviews that focused solely on said work, even if the tabloids always wanted to ask him vapid questions. A few officers in the precinct had mockingly asked him if his work was just a stepping stone for a career in TV shows and Akechi had dismissed them out of hand, insisting that all he wanted was to expose the truth. So, unless he had suddenly changed his mind, the blood and injuries were genuine – which made the shackles even more concerning. Furthermore, he had referenced opinions she’d come across earlier, opinions that had only been posted online since his disappearance. Therefore, whatever this was that she had seen, it had most likely been filmed recently. 

Could whoever had kidnapped Akechi have filmed this, and somehow managed to broadcast it on national television at midnight? Who would even be capable of doing such a thing? 

For now, she had to assume that the footage was genuine. And if that was the case, then she needed to trace wherever the footage came from before it could get any worse. She still needed to contact the boy who had been seen with Akechi in the aquarium, but she needed to get someone to investigate that TV studio as soon as possible, and pull the records of absolutely everyone who had access to the building. 

She would get to the bottom of this. She would save him, before this became worse than it already was.

_Are The Phantom Thieves Just?  
76%_

_Anon: Uv already stolen my heart uwu  
Anon: Did you guys see Akechi’s show??  
Anon: tldr just wants attention  
Anon: hope u like the hatemail defective prince, u deserve it <3  
Anon: Phantom Thieves 4, Akechi 0  
Anon: that whole akechi show was kinda messed up ngl  
Anon: Was The Blood Real???  
Anon: desperate bitch_

*

The trip to the beach had been the most fun Ren had had in a long time. All of the Metaverse explorations had been fun to some extent, but there had always been an undercurrent of horror that undercut the bright thrill of excitement and danger, the distortion that had birthed the Palaces always a little too personal to be ignored. But the beach had just been _fun_ \- a chance to hang out with his new friends somewhere normal, doing normal things, celebrating like normal teenagers enjoying summer who didn’t have supernatural powers or criminal records. He’d never actually managed to go to a beach with friends before – his hometown wasn’t that close to the coast, and even before the charges he hadn’t had that many friends, but now he could cross a summer beach trip off of his bucket list. 

He stumbled back to Leblanc after walking Futaba home feeling about as tired as he did after a successful infiltration, and determined to collapse on his bed as soon as he could. He barely noticed that the lights were still on inside, absently wondering if one of the customers was overstaying their welcome, and stepped inside.

Immediately the suffocating atmosphere hit him, and Ren stopped in the doorway as he took in the two occupants of the cafe. 

Sojiro was standing behind the counter, standing stiff as a board with his mouth drawn down in a thin line, arms folded tightly across his torso, everything in his posture closed off and radiating hostility, but when he spotted Ren his gaze flickered over to him and looked concerned, which was never a good sign. Ren glanced away from him and toward the woman sitting at the bar, taking in the suit and the long, grey hair and quickly placing her as Makoto’s sister, the prosecutor who’d tried to use Futaba against Boss. She turned to him as he entered, fixing him with a cold, calculating stare that had Ren tightening his grip on the strap of the Mona bag. 

“Ren Amamiya, correct?” she asked, and a shiver of unease crawled up his spine as he realised she’d been waiting for him, quickly chasing away the good mood the beach trip had caused. “I am prosecutor Sae Niijima. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Responses flitted through Ren’s mind – _I know my rights, I haven’t don’t anything wrong, are you here to arrest me?_ – when he saw Sojiro’s glower intensify. 

“You don’t have to answer anything,” Sojiro said immediately, and as Sae pursed her lips in disapproval Ren felt an abrupt swell of affection for his gruff caretaker. A month ago he would have stared Ren down alongside Niijima, disdainfully demanding to know what exactly he’d done to cause trouble now, but now he was coming to his defence on his own. Yet another thing Ren would have to thank Futaba for. 

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Sae allowed, frowning at Sojiro before returning her full attention to Ren. “But this is still a very important matter.”

Ren could feel Morgana squirming around in the bag, eager to get more involved in the conversation, and adjusted it on his shoulder as he slouched a little more, trying his best to channel ‘unassuming student’ as he unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. (If only he had a Persona that screamed ‘unassuming’. Maybe then this sort of thing would be easier.)

“What do you want to know?” he asked. 

He’d tried to say it gently, going for non-confrontational and agreeable, but she still startled ever so slightly at the unexpectedly deep voice, as so many did when they eventually heard him speak. She recovered quickly enough though and nodded to herself, like the hardest part was over with now. Ren wondered what she’d have done if he had told her no, if she would actually have just left. 

“You’re friends with Akechi-kun, correct?” she asked.

That wasn’t what Ren had expected – he’d been pretty sure she was about to ask him something about the Phantom Thieves – but he found himself nodding nevertheless. Honestly, he hadn’t spared Akechi much thought over the past few days, having been so distracted by Futaba’s Social Interaction Quest, but he abruptly remembered the slew of negative comments toward Akechi that had flooded the Phan Site recently. Ren had sent him a few texts after he’d seen the first wave of insults, just to check in, but Akechi had never answered him – had never even opened the messages, according to the messaging app. Had Akechi mentioned Ren to Niijima? Was she here to explain his radio silence, because he couldn’t for some reason? 

“We’ve hung out a few times,” Ren elaborated, wondering if Akechi had really considered him a friend. He probably did, or at least Ren hoped – Akechi didn’t seem like the guy who’d invite someone to their favourite jazz club or an aquarium if they weren’t friends. But after the detective had cornered him and his other friends after the washed out fireworks festival and pretty much stated that he knew they were the Phantom Thieves, Ren couldn’t shake the uncharitable thought that he was just playing a long game, only hanging out with him in the hope that he’d slip up at some point and confess. (Even if he wanted to be optimistic and think that he didn’t have any ulterior motives, Ren had learned the hard way after his arrest that hoping for the best in people didn’t always work out.) “I know that he’s busy a lot, though.”

“When was the last time you saw or spoke with him?” Sae pressed, and Ren frowned, thinking back. They’d gone to the jazz club together a few days before Futaba had hacked Medjed, right? That felt so long ago now. “The eighteenth, I think. We went to Jazz Jin in Kichijoji.”

Niijima wrote that down quickly, her expression unreadable. “How did he seem, at the jazz club? Was he concerned about anything?”

“Worried about the Medjed stuff, but he kept saying you all had it under control.” _Although you obviously didn’t._

“And after that?” Sae asked. “Has he texted or called you at all over the past week?”

Ren frowned, a bad feeling beginning to claw at his ribcage. “He called me the same night, making sure I got back safe, but nothing since then.” He hesitated before adding, “I texted him after the Medjed stuff to see if he was okay, but he didn’t respond.” Sae had a pretty good poker face, but her expression grew a little pinched at that. “Is he okay?” 

Sae paused, scanning his face in a manner that felt assessing. Eventually she sighed, rubbing at her forehead with a hand. “We’re keeping it out of the press for the time being, but… it seems that Akechi-kun is missing.” 

Ice shot through Ren’s veins, and he stared at her as she continued. 

“We’re currently trying to track his movements between the nineteenth and the twentieth, and find if he has been in contact with anyone since then.”

_That’s over a week,_ Ren thought dully. _He’s been gone for over a week and no one knows where he is?_

“The kid’s missing?” Sojiro echoed, his voice abruptly sharpening. “Do you have any leads? Where have you been looking?” 

“We’re making inquiries,” Sae replied, trying to shut him down, but Sojiro didn’t stop. 

“When did you start ‘making inquiries’? How long have you all been sitting on this before you started looking into it?” 

“We’re taking all of the appropriate steps.” Sae’s voice was like ice. 

“Well,” Sojiro began, seemingly trying to calm himself, “the media hasn’t been kind to him lately. Could he be staying with a friend or something?”

Immediately Ren knew that wouldn’t be the case – every time that they had hung out, Akechi had seemed incredibly unused to the whole idea of spending time with other people his age and had seemed to spend most of the time trying to piece together how to act. Ren doubted that Akechi had many friends outside of him, if any, and doubted he’d be comfortable enough around them to be staying over for so long. But then, if they were only coming to Leblanc to speak with him _now_ …

Sojiro seemed to come to the same conclusion as Ren did, his expression becoming thunderous. 

“You’re only looking into his friends _now?_ What have you been doing for the past week?”

Sae opened her mouth to argue back, but Ren interrupted her before she could say anything. “Do you think he’s in trouble?” he asked, his voice a lot quieter than he’d tried to make it, and immediately regretted the question. Sae would either lie to him or make him face the obvious – of course Akechi would be in danger. If there wasn’t anything wrong, he’d be in work and school and would be devoting all of his time to catching the Phantom Thieves – and if he’d dropped off the radar to try to chase them more effectively, then he’d at least have let Sae or Ren himself know about this. But he hadn’t. 

Teenage celebrities didn’t just go missing, and neither did detectives. Anyone could have grabbed him – a deranged fan, an angry criminal. And he lived alone, didn’t he? Interviews had mentioned that he was emancipated, that he had his own apartment… they could have cornered him there, or used the lack of people there to check up on him against him. The fact that he’d probably been gone since the nineteenth just made it even worse.

Sae levelled him with a look, her face twitching like she was trying to look comforting but mostly just making her look like she’d swallowed something unexpectedly bitter. Ren felt a sudden, unexpected pang of sympathy for Makoto. 

“I hope that he isn’t,” Sae answered, and that wasn’t anywhere near as comforting as she probably thought it was. She began to rummage in her bag, and she withdrew a small, sleek business card, which she held out to Ren. “I may have more questions for you at a later date, but if you hear anything from Akechi – even if you just notice that he’s read your messages, even if he doesn’t reply – then contact me or the police department immediately.”

Ren took the card from her a little reluctantly, trying not to hold it like it was going to bite him. Sae had been pretty civil with him so far, but there was still a deep discomfort at the back of his mind at the way she looked at him, like she was waiting for him to slip up. He couldn’t help but wonder if she really saw him as just a concerned friend of Akechi’s, or if she thought he was somehow secretly the perpetrator. 

“I will,” Ren said quietly, and Sae nodded before climbing to her feet and turning to Sojiro. “Thank you for the coffee, I apologise for taking up your time.”

Sojiro didn’t respond, but Sae seemed to realise relatively quickly that she wasn’t going to get a polite goodbye. She gave a short, polite bow and walked past Ren to get to the door, stepping out without another word. 

As soon as she was gone Sojiro let out a heavy sigh, rubbing at his forehead. 

“What a pain,” he groused, and Ren felt the weight in the bag shift as Morgana finally poked his head out fully, leaning his paws on Ren’s shoulder. “I need to get back to Futaba – I’m sorry for springing this on you right after your trip, but she just refused to leave.”

“It’s okay,” Ren told him, and Sojiro’s expression softened slightly. 

“Still, it’s not exactly what you want to hear the minute you come back. I hope you had fun, at least.” 

Ren nodded, even though the trip now felt like a lifetime ago. “Futaba will tell you all about it.” 

“I’m sure she will. Be sure to lock the place up, and, for what it’s worth… sorry about your friend.”

_That makes it sound like he’s already dead,_ Ren thought, but he just nodded in reply. Sojiro seemed to realise that he sounded a lot more morbid than he probably intended, and he grimaced. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Sojiro assured him quickly, and Ren just nodded again. He left Leblanc pretty quickly after that, and Ren made his way up the stairs and into his room. Morgana hopped out of the bag as soon as he could, stretching on the table next to the stairs and frowning at him. 

“That really didn’t sound good,” he said, and Ren started to shake the sand out of his socks. 

“No,” he replied. “It really didn’t.” He tugged his phone out of his pocket, just to see if somehow Akechi had texted him in the meantime, proving that he wasn’t actually missing at all, but the screen remained blank. 

“We need to tell the others, don’t we?” Morgana said, his ears drooping a little. “They should know about this.”

Ren hid his own grimace – sure, it may impact the Phantom Thieves if their biggest detractor had suddenly disappeared without a trace, but he could already imagine his friends trying and failing to be sympathetic. They’d made no secret of their distaste for him – Ryuji being the most vocal, but even Makoto seemed to pull a face every time his name cropped up. Sure, they probably wouldn’t be _happy_ to hear that Akechi was in trouble, but he didn’t think his friends would be particularly upset either. They weren’t the ones who had spent days hanging out with him, slowly becoming friends despite everything. But then again, Sae Niijima had seemed to want to keep it out of the media, and without a name (and probably a distortion too) there was nothing they could do. He’d just be worrying everyone over something they couldn’t change.

“...We have the homework study session tomorrow,” Ren said. He couldn’t bear the thought of any one of his friends suggesting that he’d bring up Akechi’s disappearance to avoid doing homework. “We can discuss it at our next meeting.”

“We could make whoever took Akechi our next target!” Morgana exclaimed, tail twitching with interest. “We’d just need to find their name and we could get them!”

“Maybe,” Ren said non-committally, not bothering to point out that it would be a lot harder to get that name than any of their other targets. Even Kaneshiro had been well-known in his own circles, even if the general public didn’t know who he was – someone who was completely hidden, who the police had no idea about would be a lot harder to find the name of, let alone the location and distortion. 

Still, Morgana looked pleased to have his suggestion acknowledged, and he licked one front paw in victory. 

“Well, try not to worry about him,” Morgana added, like that was something that Ren could just choose to do. “You heard Boss – he’s sure he’ll be fine, and he knows all about these things!”

Ren just nodded, lacking the energy to argue. But as he began to get ready for bed, he found himself opening the messages in his phone and staring at the last messages he’d sent to Akechi. The simple ‘you ok?’ sitting unread for days seemed almost mocking now, a bright neon warning sign that he should have picked up on. A sign that he would have picked up if he was a better friend. 

His thumb moved almost without his consent, and he sat on the edge of his bed staring at the newly written message and feeling suddenly inadequate. Akechi wouldn’t – couldn’t – answer, so what was the point? What kind of Phantom Thief was he, to not be able to reach his friend when he was in trouble?

He sent the message anyway before turning off the screen, tucking the phone away and climbing into bed, hoping that the exhaustion from the beach trip would be able to overcome his spinning thoughts. Morgana joined him a moment later, curling up under his arm, and Ren may have held onto him a little tighter than normal. 

**be safe. please.**

*

“Finally!” Adachi cried, punching the air victoriously as he at long last managed to get through the code locking Goro Akechi’s phone screen. The screen opened up like a blooming flower, the default lock screen of an orange sunset changing to what looked like a photograph of a silver jellyfish floating in a deep blue tank. It had been taken with enough skill that it barely showed the reflection of the person taking the picture, but Adachi could still just make out the kid’s silhouette in the darker parts of the glass, as well as someone else lingering at his shoulder. Probably some other visitor who had decided to be creepy and try to sniff his hair or something. 

Still, the background hardly mattered – and neither did the single app of solitaire seeming to be the only game on there, aside from some weird app with a red eyeball that he didn’t recognise. What mattered was that Adachi now had access to the entirety of the kid’s messages, his contact list, his photo album… and probably all of his social media accounts. But as much as he was tempted to ruin his social media presence, he knew that the minute he posted anything online as Akechi Niijima would be on his ass, tracing what wifi he was using, what cell phone towers he was pinging, and he refused to let his fun end so quickly. He couldn’t read all of his texts for the same reason, but he could still look at the previews and have a good laugh about how someone who was probably his agent was losing their mind at him not turning up to the TV station to talk shit about the Phantom Thieves. 

But one thing that he _could_ do without consequence is listen to the pile of voicemails that had built up since he was gone, and Adachi had been looking forward to that all day. 

He made sure that he was comfortably propped up on the bed, speakerphone switched on, and smiled widely at the phone. Thirteen missed calls, and as he made his way through them he got to hear Niijima’s tone soften from icy condescension and barely contained rage to something almost concerned, the barest suggestion that something may have gone wrong creeping into her mind. But then there were other voicemails, nestled between Niijima’s calls like diamonds in the rough. 

The vicious, cruel voice of a dangerous man losing his patience poured from the phone.

_“Answer your goddamn phone, Akechi. Do you think it’s clever to ignore me? Do you think I have nothing better to do than to chase after you?”_ The sneer was palpable, and Adachi found himself grinning at the utter disgust in the man’s voice. Looks like there’s trouble in Akechi’s perfect little world after all. _“Do not make me have to chase after you again.”_

But the man did chase after him again. Another call between Niijima’s, dripping with contempt, mocking him for his infantile silence, completely unaware and uncaring of any danger the boy was in, and then a third a day or so later. 

_“Do you think this is funny, you little shit?”_ his drunken voice snarled, words slurring together. _“This mess isn’t what you promised – if you don’t show your goddamn face sometime soon then I will have to start taking extreme measures, and you won’t like that. You won’t like that at all.”_ A pause, the sound of liquid sloshing in a bottle. _“You don’t want to answer me? Fine. Just keep doing what I fucking keep you around for. If I don’t hear about that shithead Kobayakawa’s brains getting smeared across the pavement in the next few weeks, then I’ll make sure that yours are instead. You think I don’t know people who wouldn’t bat an eye at fucking up a child? Who wouldn’t love to put you in your fucking place?”_ Heavy, angry breathing caused a blast of static to spark across the line. _“Get your fucking act together.”_

And wasn’t that an incredibly interesting one-sided conversation to hear, considering the brat’s squeaky clean image? If Adachi didn’t know better, he’d say that it sounded like this guy was trying to get the kid to carry out a hit for him. Maybe this kid wasn’t as boring as he thought.

The rest of the voicemails carried on in a similar vein, all angry voices and disappointment from various figures of authority who should have been checking in rather than hurling insults. The only ones that carried even a smidgen of concern were the ones from mere days ago, when Niijima had begun to think that maybe there was a reason he was staying away aside from him just being a brat. 

He’d have to save these voicemails and leak them all to the media after the brat was found dead, showing to the world that when their poor, precious detective prince was begging for his life the only people who were trying to talk to him were angry adults who should have been helping him. Even disregarding the drunk asshole’s blatant threats, Niijima’s irate calls could easily be the final nail in her coffin. A woman, openly being cruel to her child subordinate after ignoring his disappearance? The media would tear her apart for not only failing to save him, but for being mean to him in his final days. She’d never work in law enforcement again, and the shame she’d bring to her family would be incalculable. Honestly, it served her right. What right did _she_ have to be a prosecutor in the first place? She should have kept her head down and stayed out of sight rather than try to make a name for herself. 

Adachi was just saving the voicemails to the phone and thinking about hooking it up to his personal computer so that he could have them on his harddrive too when a new text notification came in, and a sharp thrill of fear cut through the amused haze. Dammit, he should have placed the thing on aeroplane mode or something – Niijima had his number, she could be with the kid’s phone network checking to see if texts were going through, and if they were going through then the phone was on, the phone was connected to the network, and that meant that if they were quick and clever enough then it could be traced. He didn’t have a clue how many cell phone towers were in Tokyo, but if this was the only hotel next to one then he’d have to move out before they could get any ideas about looking into anyone in the building with a connection to Akechi. 

He switched the phone over to aeroplane mode, manually turning off the wifi, data, location and Bluetooth while he was at it just to be safe, and then checked to see the damage. If it was Niijima then he would really have to take measures to cover his own ass, but the name beside the message wasn’t hers. In fact, it wasn’t a real name at all. 

Maybe Akechi was even more pathetic than he’d thought, seeing as he had this stranger saved as ‘Rival’, like he was some kinda shonen protagonist who had to assign specific labels to his friends. But then again, this elusive Rival had just sent the nicest message that Akechi had in his whole phone, so maybe he’d assigned the wrong one. 

**be safe. please.**

Aw, how sweet. Little Rival was actually worried.

Adachi scrolled through his contact list now that he was fairly sure he wasn’t being traced, wondering if he’d see a bunch of other pathetic names in there like ‘Wacky Sidekick’ or ‘Love Interest’, but was disappointed to see nothing else following the pattern. The kid’s contact list was actually pretty barren, but most names had little annotations next to them confirming who they were – Prosecutor Niijima was there, as was the SIU director and a bunch of police contacts that he vaguely recognised the names of, as well as his school and some media contacts. But there weren’t any other titles like Rival, or even just the given names of potential friends. 

Looked like Rival was the only friend Akechi had. 

There wasn’t much information to go off of, but Adachi wasn’t the kind of guy who just gave up. Besides, hadn’t Niijima said that she was going to speak to one of Akechi’s friends today? He could always ask her about it, tease out a name and go from there. But for now, he had a number and a connection. That was more than enough to have some fun. 

He inputted Rival’s number onto the contacts of his burner phone and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for the kind comments and kudos!! I'm so glad that people are enjoying this, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter too! ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation into Akechi's disappearance becomes public, and Goro sees more of the studio and his own past.

Goro was getting sick of waking up with a migraine in this fog-covered world. He was sitting on one of the couches again, surrounded by the exact same garish studio as the one that he had woken up in the first time, and he wondered if somehow he had been moved back to where he had started, all of his progress having been erased. That, as well as the implication that his Shadow could knock him out seemingly on a whim, was both unnerving and galling. 

He glanced around himself, searching for something different, any sign that he was somewhere new, and relaxed ever so slightly when he saw an open doorway at his back, showing the large staircase half-hidden in fog that he and his Shadow had descended. He wasn’t back at the beginning, then. He was still in the room that had held the enormous television that had shown Shido, but now the screen was gone and his path was clear. But, he realised as he glanced over to the other couch, for the first time since he had been thrown in here he was alone. His Shadow was nowhere to be found. 

Unsure whether to be relieved or alarmed, Goro slowly climbed to his feet. He swayed a little as he stood upright, but the debilitating vertigo that had overcome him last time he had tried to stand stayed away. He took in a breath, steeling himself, and began to walk away from the staircase and toward the closed door at the far end of the room. His Shadow must still be lurking around somewhere, but he didn’t want to waste time musing over why it had decided to abandon him. He’d either come across it sooner or later, or he may successfully manage to get out of this TV world before it managed to track him down again. 

Now that he knew there was a staircase he could descend, he didn’t need to check every single room. He could just do a general sweep of the floor, grab whatever he could get his hands on, and move on to the next one as soon as he found the stairs. _Just treat this like Mementos,_ he tried to reassure himself, but couldn’t quite hold back his grimace at the thought. Ah yes, just a nice trip through Mementos, unarmed and unaware of what monsters might be lurking in the dark. It was his first awakening all over again. 

He kept walking, pushing such unhelpful thoughts out of his mind. His Shadow may be overly keen on self-reflection, but Goro’s sole priority was getting out of this place as quickly as possible, and hoping that whatever power had forcibly removed his Personas returned them to him on his exit. He had no idea how much time had passed in the real world, but he knew that he had no time to waste. If everything with Medjed had gone as planned, then he still had so much work to do to ensure that Shido’s plan for the Phantom Thieves would come to fruition. There was still that principal he needed to take care of, of course, as well as that goddamn hillbilly detective who had thrown him in here in the first place. He was going to enjoy tearing him apart. 

He pushed open another imitation of an emergency door, finding a treasure chest behind it. He forced it open easily, and blinked in surprise at what was inside. A bright red orb that fit neatly in the palm of his hand, glowing softly with a heat that he could feel clearly even through his gloves. It looked a little different from the ones that he had found in Palaces and Mementos, but there was no mistaking its purpose – it was one of the items that he could throw at Shadows to exploit their weaknesses. It was a _weapon_ , and even though a sword or a gun would have been much better, he was hardly going to turn his nose up at it. 

He tucked the orb away in his pocket, a tentative smile creeping onto his face. At least he had a weapon now – even if it was unlikely to be able to take down a Shadow, it could be enough to stun it and give him the opportunity to flee. 

It was amazing how much having the means to defend himself improved his mood. Even though the damn headache that had plagued him ever since he had stepped into this world was still firmly in place, and the bone-deep heaviness to his limbs made every step feel like a significant effort, Goro still had a spring in his step as he left the freshly emptied room and made his way down the other end of the hall. A few doors later he was rewarded with another staircase, and he was practically beaming with pride by the time he finished his descent. 

As before, there was another enormous black screen with no foot or handholds for him to use to climb it, and a pair of red couches waiting in front of it. He didn’t bother hesitating this time, heading to the left couch as before and sitting on the edge of it as he waited for the screen to light up. At least this time his Shadow wasn’t there to add its commentary. 

The screen lit up with bright white light, but this time it didn’t settle to the sight of Shido’s office. Instead it changed to dull, off-white walls turned dark grey with the darkness of the room, a thin halo of bright light coming from the lit phone screen in the centre of an abandoned futon. The sheets were thrown around haphazardly, the previous occupant clearly having left in a hurry, and the door to the tiny bedroom was slid open, although the living room beyond was still bathed in darkness. Distantly, he could hear someone retching. 

_My apartment,_ he realised, curling his fingers into fists as he watched the screen. So that was likely him vomiting in the adjacent bathroom. 

The camera panned over the room briefly, lingering on the empty walls that should have held photographs of happy times, and blank spaces where any other teenager would probably have knick-knacks or souvenirs from times out with friends, painting a lonely picture that had Goro grinding his teeth together. But then the camera turned instead to the abandoned futon and the phone screen that was still illuminated, focusing on it until the messages on the screen became clear. 

_Well done for your work today_ came from an unknown number that he knew to be Shido’s. _Your next list will be sent to you on Friday. Play nice with Isshida and Yoshizawa at the station tomorrow._

It wasn’t a particularly threatening message, especially taking into consideration Shido’s usual fare, but he still heard a half-choked sob from the bathroom. If he was reacting like that it must have been toward the beginning of his work for Shido, back when he was still coming to terms with exactly what using his powers entailed. Back when he was a sixteen year old in over his head, and he hadn’t yet sharpened his desire for revenge into a knifepoint. 

“I will do anything,” his own voice said, ringing out across the room. Another sob echoed from the television screen. “Absolutely anything they ask me to. To be reliable. To be needed.”

“To lull him into a false sense of security so that I can give him the violent end that he deserves,” Goro corrected, the words spoken through gritted teeth 

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me,” the voice continued, “so long as they’re happy with me. I’d tear off piece after piece of myself to become what they need me to be. It doesn’t matter if there’s nothing left that’s real, so long as it’s still something they can use.”

As much as he wanted to, Goro didn’t bother with arguing for himself – it wasn’t going to make any difference, and the sooner this was over with the sooner he could move onto the next floor, and probably go through this all over again. He wondered how many more floors were in this place, how many more humiliations he would have to suffer before he reached the end. 

But then there was what the Shadow had said to him – that this was for self-reflection, not humiliation. He looked closely at the phone on the screen, wondering at the change between the memory of him talking with Shido and this staged scene with his phone. There wasn’t much linking them together, aside from the common thread of him doing things he probably shouldn’t have for people who didn’t deserve his loyalty. 

There still wasn’t enough data for him to know what that Shadow had meant by him deserving to die, but he was in no hurry to get more. Thankfully the screen went dark and began to disappear into the floor of the studio, and Goro stood up slowly, half expecting to be knocked out again before he could make any more progress. No abrupt dizzy spells overcame him this time, and Goro breathed a little easier as he stepped out of the room. One more floor, one more staircase to find, and then he’d be one step closer to freedom. 

*

“We need to find our next target!” Ryuji exclaimed in the bustling walkway, and Ren took a moment to be thankful that all of the people around them were too caught up in their own lives to pay much attention to the group of incredibly suspicious teenagers loitering around yelling about crime. 

Makoto sent Ryuji a withering look anyway. “You really need to be quieter.”

“I believe we promised Futaba that we would find the criminal who has been using the Metaverse for their own nefarious ends,” Yusuke stated, and Futaba nodded from where she was crouched on the ground in front of her laptop. 

“Yep! We definitely need to catch that guy and make him pay!” 

“But where would we even start with that?” Ann asked with a frown, absently twirling her hair around a finger. “All the proof we have that he even exists is what we heard from Madarame and Kaneshiro, right?” 

“And the fact that mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns have been happening that definitely had nothing to do with us,” Makoto reminded her, brows drawn down in unease. “If we can stop him, then we can save many potential victims. But it’s so frustrating that we have so few clues...”

“Yeah, but you know what’s really cool right now?” Ryuji interrupted, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re like, super popular now! Everyone in school is talking about us, and we’re all over TV too!”

“That’s true!” Ann agreed, a bright smile lighting up her face. “The Phan Site has been going crazy with the rankings over the last couple days!”

“You mean this?” Futaba asked, loading up the webpage on her laptop and leaning back a little so that the others could get a closer look. Sure enough, Ren saw the ranking page that Mishima had set up taking up the screen, showing a top five list of people the public wanted to have their hearts changed. He blinked and the list abruptly changed, first place moving abruptly to second, changing from one name he barely recognised to another. 

Ryuji was saying something about how much money they could make taking down these bigshots, so he must have recognised them at least, but Ren found his gaze catching on the name that was now sitting snug at number five on the list; a name that didn’t particularly fit with the presumed rich and powerful men that were vying for first place, but still made a rock of pity and concern drop heavy in his gut. 

“Are you okay with us doing this, Futaba?” Makoto asked, and Ren reluctantly tore his gaze away from Goro Akechi’s name on the screen. “Even though it’s to do with your mother?”

“More than okay! I need to find that guy and punch him myself!”

“Are you sure that there aren’t any clues?” Morgana piped up from the bag. His paws were resting on Ren’s shoulder, absently kneading the fabric of his shirt with his claws like he did whenever he got excited about something. “Wasn’t the elder Niijima sister investigating the mental shutdown cases?”

Makoto stiffened a little, but Yusuke nodded in agreement.

“Yes, weren’t both her and Akechi trying to get to the bottom of these events?” Yusuke asked, and Ren tensed a little himself at the mention of the boy’s name. 

“Well, yes,” Makoto said, eyes widening a little and shifting like she had been caught off-guard. “But if I ask about it she’ll just tell me to mind my own business and focus on studying instead.”

“If you can’t ask her, you can just extract the data yourself,” Futaba mumbled, taking a hand off of the keyboard and rummaging in her pocket for a moment before withdrawing a USB. “This is one of my secret weapons! If you put this in her work computer, laptop, whatever, then it’ll clone the entire internal harddrive, and I can work my magic on it!” Makoto gaped at the tiny USB drive like it was going to bite her, and Futaba wiggled it at her. “C’mon Queen, live a little!”

“I mean, she does bring her laptop home sometimes,” Makoto mumbled, still making no moves to take the USB. “But this… it’s a massive breach of privacy, and extremely illegal, and if she catches me...”

“You’re the only one who can do this, Makoto,” Ann reminded her, and Makoto grimaced. “But we don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“It’s either this or we try to get the info out of Akechi somehow,” Futaba said with a shrug, still keeping her arm outstretched, and Makoto inhaled sharply at the exact same time Ren did. 

“Ain’t it weird that Akechi hasn’t had anything to say about us lately?” Ryuji asked, kicking the ground absently. “I mean, he never shut up about us before, right? But now he hasn’t said anything in days.” A mischievous smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “D’ya think that he’s switched over to our side now?”

“That seems rather unlikely,” Yusuke commented, but Makoto’s frown deepened. 

“I don’t think Akechi is an option,” she said softly, finally leaning down to pluck the USB out of Futaba’s grasp. “He’s… well, it looks like he’s probably the reason why my sister is so busy right now, although it’s hardly his fault...”

“Oh yeah,” Morgana mumbled, like he had somehow managed to forget about Sae coming to Leblanc. Maybe it hadn’t been haunting him as much as it had been haunting Ren. 

“Why?” Ann asked, concern beginning to creep into her voice. “What’s going on with Akechi?”

Makoto glanced toward Ren briefly, as though silently asking him for strength, before she gathered herself and continued. 

“It hasn’t been announced to the media yet, so of course none of us should mention this to anyone,” she said softly, and all of the gathered thieves leaned a little closer to her, “but it seems that Akechi-kun is missing.”

“What?!” Ryuji exclaimed, and Ann immediately smacked him on the arm. 

“Quiet!” she hissed, even though her face had gone pale. 

“Missing?” Yusuke repeated, incredulous. “You’re certain of this?” 

Makoto nodded. “I think they’re trying to avoid inciting public panic by keeping it under wraps. If, in the worst case scenario, a teenage celebrity has been abducted, then that could be a bigger story than the Phantom Thieves.”

“Damn,” Ryuji said a little quieter. “I mean, I know this really sucks for him, but this could be our big break! If we’re the ones who end up saving him, then all his fans will be our fans, right? We’ll be even more famous than we are now!”

“That’s… not a great reason to want to help someone,” Ann said, but her voice was quiet, contemplative. 

“Either way, if big sis has info about him mixed with the mental shutdown stuff, I’ll be able to find it,” Futaba told them. “Just put it in her laptop and I’ll see what I can do.”

Makoto tucked the drive into her pocket, nodding even though she still didn’t look happy about it. “I’ll do what I can,” she assured them, and that was that. 

* 

Sae didn’t come home that night, and when Makoto turned on the TV to watch while she ate dinner she quickly found out why.

There was a balding man standing behind a banner announcing breaking news, staring seriously into the camera from a podium outside of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. A little tag at the bottom of the screen labelled him as the head of the missing persons’ division, and Makoto abruptly had an unfortunate idea of what the man was going to say. A few seconds into the broadcast, her hunch was proven correct, as a posed, smiling picture of Akechi appeared on the screen beside him. 

“We are officially declaring that Goro Akechi, also known as the ‘detective prince’, has been declared missing. Our teams are currently working together to ensure his safe return, but if you have any information on his disappearance or believe that you have seen him from the afternoon of the nineteenth of August onward, we urge you to contact the police immediately. We want nothing more than to return him safely home, and to that end we are willing to offer thirty thousand yen to any individual who can provide us with information that can lead to his safe return.”

In her apartment, Makoto Niijima wondered how much this development would affect her team.

In his hotel room, Tohru Adachi laughed in delight and wondered how many useless tips would come into the department over the next few days. 

And in another office overlooking the Tokyo skyline, Masayoshi Shido listened to the frantic excuses of the SIU director who somehow hadn’t managed to find the brat yet despite knowing the significance of his place in the conspiracy, and began to adjust his plans. 

_Are the Phantom Thieves Just?  
82%_

_Anon: AKECHI NOOOOOO D’:  
Anon: only 30k yen?? for a celebrity????  
Anon: lmao he’s dead  
Anon: no ransom??? he’s prolly in someone’s basement  
Anon: how is he missing he was on tv like 2 days ago  
Anon: SAVE HIM PHANTOM THIEVES!!!  
Anon: we supposed to feel sorry for him now? lol no  
Anon: serves him right_

*

The morning after Akechi had formally been declared missing, it was front page news on every single newspaper and magazine in Tokyo. Sae had briefly left her office to get lunch from a nearby convenience store and felt like she was drowning in a sea of the same face; everywhere she looked she saw either the staged, charming smile of the police department’s darling on the proper newspapers or candid shots of him looking wistful across the tabloids. The headlines varied in tactfulness alongside the photographs, some less reputable organisations publicly questioning if he was alive or dead, but Sae tried not to pay them enough attention to be actively bothered by their speculation.

It didn’t matter what the media had to say, or how they were already twisting the story – what mattered was that now the SIU Director had finally decided to announce it, and they could now finally use the general public’s help. She would have to discuss the best way to proceed with the director, and about assigning more officers to the tip line. Since they had announced a reward for information, there was bound to be an influx of time wasters. 

She passed her office on the way to the director’s, frowning at the sight of at least one of the borrowed officers with his nose in one of the tabloids, Akechi’s face staring out at her like he was asking for help. She knocked on the door twice before pushing the door open and bowing. 

“Sir, you wanted to see me?” 

“Ah, Niijima-san,” the SIU Director drawled, beckoning her further inside with a wave of his hand. “Yes. My apologies for pulling you away from your work.”

“It’s quite alright,” Sae replied stiffly, keeping her hands flat at her sides and trying not to demand that she return to her desk right away. “Have there been any other developments regarding Akechi-kun?” 

“Information is coming in by the hour, but none of it seems to be of much use,” the man answered. “I did want to discuss this new case, however.” He steepled his fingers in front of him. “The department for missing persons’ is devoting the majority of its resources to tracking down Akechi-kun, and I trust their judgment.” He paused for a beat before continuing. “So I would like you to return your focus to the psychotic breakdown incidents, and leave his disappearance in their hands.”

For a moment Sae could simply stare at him, the words spinning in her mind but not quite landing, before the implications finally sank in. 

“You’re taking me off the case?”

“I’m rearranging your priorities. Your primary job is to build a case against the Phantom Thieves, not to run around after Akechi. We have other departments for that.”

Distantly, she knew that made sense. Missing people was not her speciality, but then again neither were psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns prior to being assigned to this specific case. But the thought of this investigation being taken away from her – the thought of being pushed aside and being forced to give it to someone else – filled her with sudden, intense rage. Akechi was _her_ subordinate, _she_ was the one who had noticed he was missing… she was hardly going to just roll over and let someone else get the glory for his rescue.

“But Akechi-kun was instrumental to the case,” she argued. Her mind frantically ran through the hand that she’d been dealt, trying to find the ace to play that would let her keep the case.

“The boy doesn’t need your words of praise right now,” the director interrupted, voice cold. “He was assigned to this case to help you, not to be the sole reason for your success. If you cannot succeed without his help, then we have vastly overestimated your competence, Niijima-san.”

“That isn’t what I’m saying, sir,” Sae bit out, curling her hands into tight fists and fighting to keep her expression neutral. “I’m saying that-” _What are you saying? Play it right, Niijima!_ “-there’s a chance that the cases are connected.”

The director gaped at her for a moment, his eyes widening slightly. “Connected?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”

Sae straightened her spine, satisfaction beginning to swim in her veins at the director’s sudden interest, and allowed herself to follow the train of thought wherever it went. 

“Akechi-kun was very publicly trying to catch the culprit behind the mental shutdown cases, and whoever took him also took his phone and laptop, both of which may have confidential information on them. There haven’t been any ransom demands, making it unlikely that he was taken for money, so who would personally benefit from Akechi-kun’s disappearance aside from the very people he was trying to apprehend?”

The SIU director was looking at her closely, but the more Sae spoke the more she convinced herself that she was on the right track. 

“I was under the impression that you both had little more than a profile of the culprits,” he said slowly. “Do you think he was close to a breakthrough?”

“We can’t discount the possibility,” Sae said. As much as it galled her to think that somehow Akechi had managed to find more information than she had and hadn’t bothered to share it with her, that may provide an explanation as to why she hadn’t also been targeted. “But sir, if there’s a chance that these cases are connected, then I have to stay on both. If catching the culprit behind the psychotic breakdowns will save Akechi-kun, then I will need access to all the information I can get my hands on – I cannot afford to not have access to the same information as the missing persons’ team.”

The director watched her silently for a moment, a calculating look in his eyes, and Sae held herself perfectly still as she awaited his judgement. After what felt like an eternity he gave a long-suffering sigh and a nod. 

“Alright, Niijima-san. I’ll keep you on the case for now, but do not allow this to slow your investigation.”

Sae just barely contained her victorious smile, and she bowed low. 

“Thank you, sir – you won’t regret this.” 

“I expect to see a detailed report regarding your progress in both finding Akechi and tracking down the Phantom Thieves every week. If there are no substantial breakthroughs forthcoming, then I will remove you from the Akechi case and have you focus solely on the Phantom Thieves. Am I clear?” 

“Yes, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.”

She held the bow for a moment longer before heading out of the office with her head held high. The dice had rolled in her favour for now, but she would have to ensure that it stayed this way. She’d need to gather information to support her new hypothesis – find evidence that not only had the culprit of the psychotic breakdown incidents had changed their modus operandi so drastically, but that they had to have been the primary beneficiary of Akechi’s disappearance. She already had an inkling of who had benefited the most from the psychotic breakdowns, so now all she had to do was link him to Akechi.

She already had the list of individuals who had access to the television studio that may have filmed Akechi’s bizarre appearance, thanks to an extremely helpful Shinichi Yoshizawa. Now all she had to do was find a connection between any of those people and Kunikazu Okumura. 

“Niijima-san!” 

She pulled up short at the sound of her name, and she paused as the detective who had discovered the state of Akechi’s apartment hurried over to her. She thought that maybe he had been one of the ones with his nose in a tabloid magazine, but she couldn’t be certain. 

Adachi drew himself up a little taller as he stopped in front of her, offering her a slightly lopsided smile that unfortunately seemed to match his crooked tie and untucked shirt. Did he not care at all about his own appearance? They all had a reputation to uphold; if he was going to wander around like that he was going to bring her entire team into disrepute. 

“I was wondering if there was any progress on finding more of Akechi-kun’s friends?” he asked, managing to stand up straight at least. “I know that you were investigating one of them the other day and you might have moved on from that line of inquiry, but I thought better be safe than sorry!”

She grimaced a little at the reminder – the impromptu meeting with Amamiya hadn’t borne anything particularly valuable, but it had served as an unpleasant reminder of how little time Akechi spent around people his own age. Looking deeper into his social media and getting one of her men to ask around his apartment had simply solidified her concerns that he didn’t really have friends, and made it even less likely that he was simply hiding with someone he trusted. With his phone missing there was little chance of her being able to see any of his private messages and disprove that either. 

“We’re no longer pursuing that angle,” Sae said instead of voicing any of that, folding her arms across her chest. She caught how his eyes darted down for a moment, and her tone grew colder. “I thought I’d assigned you to check the security records of the TV station to see if anyone had entered after hours?” 

He looked a little sheepish at that, and rubbed at the back of his head. “I’ve been doing that for a while, Niijima-san, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s been going in there officially. One of our colleagues is looking into their CCTV footage instead.” He gave a small shrug. “I just wanted to know if you want someone to do a follow-up check on his friend, whoever it was.” 

Was it worth sending someone else to question Ren Amamiya? The boy hadn’t seemed very suspicious, his concern for Akechi had seemed genuine, and if an officer was sent to talk to him when he hadn’t done anything to contact Sae then he may feel cornered and be a lot less cooperative. There was also the matter of Sakura, who was bound to be somewhat hostile to law enforcement appearing in his business again-

Oh, of course. The boy was already being checked up on – he was on probation. 

“His ‘friend’ is already being watched,” Sae told him, beginning to step around him. “He’s a juvenile delinquent on probation. If he does anything suspicious, then we’ll hear about it sooner rather than later.”

“Whoa, seriously?” Adachi said, eyes widening. “Wow. I didn’t think the detective prince went around making friends with troublemakers.”

“Didn’t the first detective prince spend time with someone in a biker gang?” she said before she could catch herself. Now wasn’t the time to engage in idle gossip, but Adachi was cracking a smile. 

“I think the kid actually beat up a biker gang, but yeah. Maybe they like danger. But still, isn’t that all the more reason to check up on them?”

Sae paused, weighing her options. Chances were that Adachi would keep pushing, even if she told him to leave it, and she didn’t have time to waste debating with him. There were many more things that he could be dealing with in the meantime – she still had yet to hear back from forensics about anything they had found in the apartment, after all – but she couldn’t say for certain that Amamiya didn’t have information that he wasn’t ready to share yet.

“Prioritise the TV station,” she told him. “If you finish looking through the records today, _then_ you can check his friend. The name’s Ren Amamiya, from what I recall.”

Adachi grinned widely at her, and Sae moved past him to head back to her desk. “Will do, Niijima-san!” he called after her, and she barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes as she pushed Adachi out of her mind. Okumura was the priority – whatever Adachi was doing wasn’t worth wasting time over. 

*

There were Shadows on this floor.

Goro had nearly jumped when he turned a corner and saw a writhing black mass crawling across the floor, dragging itself along slowly by a pair of long, dark arms, and he immediately backtracked to a safe distance. He observed it from around the wall, grimacing at the sight of the thing. It was nothing like the Shadows he had seen in Palaces or even in Mementos – all of the ones he had come across before looked at least vaguely humanoid, and not like sentient slime, yet he was certain that they were in fact Shadows and not some other creature. 

He wondered if their appearance was a reflection on him somehow; was it because he knew how Shadows were just a creation of the collective unconscious, as opposed to previous Palace rulers, and therefore his own subconscious didn’t project them as humanoid? Or was it simply how Shadows manifested within the TV, and had nothing to do with him at all? 

He had no way to know for certain, and it was getting increasingly frustrating to have his immense knowledge of the Metaverse questioned by the sheer bizarre nature of this TV world. But Shadows should work the same no matter where they were – dangerous, and downright deadly without a Persona or any other weapon to hurt them with. 

He’d grown powerful enough over the last few years to be able to forgo stealth almost entirely – now when he went to Mementos and even in some Palaces the Shadows would flee from him as soon as he appeared, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be silent and careful when he needed to be. The Phantom Thieves had never managed to spot him when he’d followed them into Palaces after all. 

But visibility in this strange TV world was poor, and although his migraine was significantly reduced now that his Shadow wasn’t constantly on his heels, he still wasn’t at his best. He’d already checked the rest of the corridor behind him, and the only way forward was past the Shadow. He’d have to be careful, and if it saw him… he’d just have to be faster. His fingers brushed the single fire orb he had in his pocket, his one weapon, and after a moment of deliberation he toed off his shoes to muffle the sound of his footsteps. Once he got out of here he could worry about footwear. 

He took in a deep breath, hating that he had to be careful around such insignificant creatures when normally he would decimate them easily, and turned the corner. 

The Shadow had its back to him but its bulk took up a good half of the floorspace – he’d have to sidle across the wall to avoid it. He crept closer, holding his breath and keeping his hand in his pocket, but his steps were silent. The Shadow seemed to be moving in a slow arc, almost like it was circling the same little patch of floor, and Goro carefully stepped around it. He didn’t breathe until he was around the corner with the Shadow firmly behind him, and sagged against the wall. He supposed it should be somewhat humiliating, to have to creep around and not simply decimate the enemies in his path, but he just didn’t have the energy to be self-conscious in here. 

“Let’s go,” he muttered to himself, pushing away from the wall and continuing his exploration. 

There was another Shadow of the same size down another hall, crawling around a treasure chest at a dead end, and Goro avoided that one entirely and pushed open another door, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw another staircase. At least the pattern was the same, and there weren’t any ridiculous puzzles that he needed to solve before moving on. 

He descended, but paused in the threshold at the bottom of the staircase as he blinked at the world around him. The studio had changed – the cameras were still present, as were the spotlights and the boom mics, but the floor had changed from ugly patterned carpet to speckled tiles, and the bright, garish studio backdrop had changed to off-white walls adorned with posters explaining various research papers. 

There was something about the new environment that was uncomfortably familiar, and even with the large gaps on either side of the freshly tiled walkway and the fog obscuring everything around him, he knew that the posters were referencing cognitive psience. 

There was another enormous screen he couldn’t make his way over or around, but instead of bright red couches sitting in front of them there were dark blue and grey plastic chairs lined up in a row, like seats in a doctor’s waiting room. Goro’s skin crawled as he sat down, the chair creaking beneath him as he did, and he waited for the screen to come to life. After a moment it did, and his breath caught at the sight. 

He hadn’t seen the research lab in years, but the sight of it was unmistakable. It was clearly the inspiration for the new décor of the TV world, as the walls and floor were an exact replica, and there was a boy sitting on a chair identical to the one Goro was currently occupying, sitting perfectly straight but almost completely unrecognisable. Mismatched clothes hung loosely from a scrawny body, the muscle definition he had gained over the last few years only a mere suggestion rather than fact, and his gangly limbs suggested a growth spurt that had caught him off-guard. His face was still more round than sharp, pale and dotted with spots as this was before he’d taken up a good skincare routine and learned how to apply makeup, and his hair had been freshly cut and only just brushed his ears. 

He remembered cutting it himself in the bathroom of his foster home, trying to make himself look older and more professional, remembering his foster father sneering that only delinquents and the homeless had hair that long. He’d stared at himself in the mirror for a long time, clumps of damp, dark hair filling the sink, and hated how little of his mother he could see in himself. Without her hair framing it, his face was a stranger’s – not hers, and not even his own. All he could see was the man who had ruined his life in all of the places he couldn’t see her. 

Now, seeing that face as an outsider, he couldn’t see Shido there. Instead all he could see was a child, and couldn’t believe how young he looked even just a few years ago. 

There was a door open off to the side of where his younger self was sitting, and the camera panned away from him to focus on the door instead, but keeping him firmly in the periphery. There were two people inside the room, and one standing outside of it – the man standing outside Goro distantly recognised as one of Shido’s, but not one he had seen recently. The two inside made him freeze.

“There’s no way the kid’s name is Taro Tanaka,” Sojiro Sakura said, a deep frown etched into his face. Goro had completely forgotten that that was the alias Shido had given him when he had started the research, and had forgotten that _Sakura_ of all people had been the liaison between the government and the lab. How had he managed to forget about that? He’d been in the man’s _cafe_ and neither of them had recognised the other. “If it is, I’ll eat my hat.”

“You should do that anyway,” Wakaba Isshiki replied lightly, her black bob flying around her head as she turned away from him, “it’s a terrible hat.”

“Wakaba,” Sakura said, his voice a long-suffering drone. “I’m just trying to do my job, and I can’t do that if I don’t even know the kid’s real name.”

“It’s a blind study, Sojiro, you’ve heard about them. The less we know about the kid, the less we can make assumptions and skew the data.”

“Bullshit. This entire research is about getting into someone’s head, right? You need to know about the participants so you don’t just end up traumatising them.”

Goro scoffed. He seriously doubted that anyone on the research team gave a damn about potentially traumatising their participant. 

“Exactly, so we don’t need something so little as someone’s name.”

“But _I_ do, to check that his parents have given their informed consent for him to involved in all of this and be able to give compensation to them if anything happens.”

“Cover it up, you mean,” Wakaba said a little sullenly, and Sakura sighed again. 

“I really hope you aren’t doing anything here that would need me covering it up, Wakaba. I’m just trying to make sure that everything’s above board, and nothing here is going to come in and bite any of you on the ass. Can you at least show me the forms that his parents signed to give their consent? It doesn’t matter if it says Tanaka on them, I just want to make sure that everything is fine for both you and the kid.”

Wakaba hesitated, and in the background the boy whose real name was definitely not Taro Tanaka stood up. 

“...He signed the consent forms himself,” Wakaba said eventually, and Sakura’s expression hardened. She held up a hand to stop him before he could speak. “I know what it sounds like, but there was no one else to sign for him, and it’s not like he can’t read. He’s in high school, Sojiro, he isn’t a baby – he can sign up for some research on his own.”

“Would you be happy with Futaba signing herself up for this?” Sakura said, and Wakaba’s expression abruptly shuttered. 

“He isn’t Futaba.”

“And you aren’t some shady back alley doctor,” Sojiro agreed, voice weary. “I know. But I’m doing this to cover your ass too, Wakaba. If word of this got out-”

“Excuse me.” 

His own voice was higher and lacked the confidence he would eventually grow into, but as he stood in the doorway and looked between the two adults discussing his choices with Shido’s goon breathing down his neck, his gaze was firm. He gave a short, polite bow and looked between the two of them, and the Goro who was merely an observer found his gaze drawn to Wakaba’s desk off in the corner of the room, sitting in a patch of light. There’s a photograph on it that shouldn’t be so clear from the camera’s distance, but his memory provided the image unprompted: Wakaba smiling at the camera, half-heartedly striking a pose beside a young girl with bright orange hair. The child’s roots are coming in black, and she grins with all her teeth as she raises an opposing arm and leg in an obvious sentai pose, her oversized t shirt boasting the Neo Featherman logo. 

He remembered seeing that photograph countless times, while trying and failing to remember if there were similar photographs of himself and his mother back in the old apartment that they had shared before her death. Back then he had tried and failed to remember even posing for photographs in such a carefree way, with such unselfconscious joy. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the fifteen year old Goro Akechi said, not quite successfully schooling his face into something that actually looked apologetic. “But Isshiki-san isn’t making me do anything that I do not want to do. I consented to the research with the hope of making a real difference in the world, and I know the risks. I want to do this.”

Goro acknowledged with a grim satisfaction that he was still a good liar even years ago. Sojiro Sakura grimaced, looking like he wanted to argue with him, but Wakaba smiled. And even years later, and with the weight of everything that had happened in that time pressing down on him, that smile still made him feel like the breath had been punched out of his lungs. Because-

“No one’s smiled at me like that in years,” his Shadow’s voice whispered like a secret. “A kind smile. A mother’s smile.”

Time and knowledge of what he had done had warped his memory of Wakaba, and the emotions he had once felt in her presence. He’d told himself time and time again that there had been nothing but hate and mistrust between them, that her life was nothing but a stepping stone to get him closer to Shido, just like his had just been a way to further her research.

But his Shadow kept talking and Wakaba kept smiling, and he knew that he’d been lying to himself. 

“Maybe if I do exactly what she says, she’ll smile at me more, and tell me that I’m more than just unwanted trash. Maybe I’ll be useful, and I’ll finally be worth something. I have powers now, I can do whatever she wants me to. If I can be the perfect test subject...”

Goro closed his eyes tight, bracing himself for what he knew the Shadow was going to say. 

“…then maybe I can be the perfect son too.”

It still hit like a physical blow. 

“I wasn’t good enough before, but I’ve changed. Once I have my revenge, she can adopt me. I’ll have a sister, I’ll have a family. I can make my own happy ending!

“But do I deserve it?” 

Goro flinched at the sound of the voice right next to him, his eyes flying open as he twisted in the seat to see his Shadow suddenly standing beside him. Its face was completely flat, and it reached down while he was still reeling to grab his wrist. The grip was tight, and Goro curled his free hand into a fist, ready to punch the Shadow in the jaw.

“We have a guest,” the Shadow said with little inflection, hauling Goro to his feet. The screen was still playing behind him, Wakaba triumphantly telling Sakura that he had nothing to worry about, and the artificial light bounced strangely off of the blood and bruises still decorating his Shadow’s face. “But they keep demanding to see you rather than just me, and I refuse to keep them waiting.”

“A guest?” Goro repeated. He hadn’t seen anyone around, so they must be on a lower floor. Had some other poor fool been thrown in here? Or was it a would-be rescuer, someone who already knew the secrets of the TV world, or someone who knew the Metaverse and somehow wasn’t susceptible to this strange world’s effects? 

Oh god, if it was the Phantom Thieves then he was going to scream. 

“Come and see,” the Shadow said instead, completely unhelpful, and it snapped the fingers of the hand that wasn’t holding onto Goro. 

A disorienting flash of white light surrounded him, and the world around him tilted. The Shadow’s grip on his arm kept him upright, and as he blinked in the fading light he spotted the same off-white walls of the new area that he had stumbled into. Maybe the ‘guest’ wasn’t as far from him as he’d thought. 

“Wowee, that actually worked!” 

The voice was completely unfamiliar, and as Goro looked around for its owner he caught sight of a… _thing_ that clashed harshly with the clinical environment around it. It was a mascot costume of some sort, uncomfortably tall and quite round. Blue ears twitched as hands in matching blue mittens waved, its body red and white with three large red pom poms down its torso, almost like a clown. An unnerving silver zip went around its ‘neck’, and as he met the black eyes on its pale face it _blinked_ like the suit itself was alive. 

“You must be Grr-o!” the thing somehow said without moving its mouth. “My name’s Teddie! I’m here to rescue you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teddie is here! And he doesn't have Traesto, because that would be far too easy :P


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves get some of Niijima's data and some unexpected communication, while Goro and Teddie run into trouble.

Makoto had managed to get the information from her sister’s laptop, so the Phantom Thieves gathered inside Futaba’s room to see what the data held.

Makoto’s sister had managed to make a connection between the psychotic breakdowns and the mental shutdowns, suggesting that they were both down to a singular culprit, although Futaba guessed that she wouldn’t be able to finish analysing that data until after Ren and the others had returned from Hawaii. There was much less information regarding Akechi’s disappearance – in contrast to the dozens of folders containing reports, interview transcripts and pictures of various victims and crime scenes for the mental shutdown cases, there was only one for the missing detective.

Futaba clicked through the folder as the others watched over her shoulder, opening files and images and spreading them out across her three monitors, until she opened some image files and immediately recoiled.

“Oh crap,” she muttered, and Ren found himself flinching back when he saw what she had seen. Three pictures of the same apartment from three different angles, all showing a home that had been destroyed. The room had been completely trashed, text books and papers strewn around, furniture upturned and cups shattered, and Ren’s heart began to pound as he stared at it.

Even knowing that he was missing, even knowing that there was a pretty big chance that he was in serious trouble, part of Ren had still insisted that his friend would be fine, that he was hiding away and biding his time for some reason. The sight of this room, _his_ room he was sure, in such a state obliterated that hope. Akechi wasn’t just missing – he’d been taken, and they needed to do something.

“Is that Akechi’s apartment?” Ann asked, raising a hand to her mouth as she stared, eyes wide. “That… looks really bad.”

“Dude, someone’s been in there,” Ryuji said, voice grave. “He might be in real trouble.”

Yusuke hummed, tilting his head as he regarded the photographs. “How strange,” he mused, and Ren glanced toward him, taking in the slight crease between his brows. “The composition of the scene seems… wrong.”

“Wrong?” Makoto repeated, as Ryuji grimaced at ‘composition’. “What do you mean?”

“It looks almost _too_ chaotic,” Yusuke explained, leaning closer. “It is presumably the aftermath of Akechi’s abduction, correct? So where exactly was the centre of the altercation?” He gestured toward the centre of the room, where the low table should have been. “One would assume here, as the table has been moved, but if the attacker had entered from the doorway, why is the table at such an angle? Why has one of the chairs been broken?” He folded his arms. “It seems like someone has gone out of their way to make a mess of the apartment, rather than this just being a result of the abduction.”

“So you’re saying that someone just... messed up the apartment on purpose?” Ann summarised, frowning.

“Maybe they were looking for something?” Makoto guessed, raising a hand to her chin. “Maybe they thought he was keeping something important in his apartment, but didn’t know where?”

“Then wouldn’t that mess be in like, his bedroom or something?” Ann asked. “I mean, it doesn’t look like there’s much space in that room to hide stuff. Now that Yusuke’s said it, it does look like it was just trashed for no reason.”

“That don’t really mean anything though,” Ryuji said, scratching at his head. “I mean, they could have just trashed the place after they took him, right? To make a point to the police or something.”

They all fell silent, each unable to pull their gaze away from the photographs for long.

“I can go through the Akechi file and summarise everything properly, but it might take an hour or so,” Futaba said, minimising the photos even though the image of them was still burned on Ren’s eyes. “The tldr seems to be that they don’t know who did it or where he is, and the only leads they have are a TV station.”

“A TV station?” Ann repeated.

“Yeah, apparently he showed up on a channel at midnight talking about some stuff that only happened after he disappeared, so maybe he’s being held at a TV station or something?” She spun in her chair to face the other Thieves. “Maybe some of you guys can check TVs at midnight and see if there’s anything? I can check if anyone recorded it and posted it online, but I’ll have my hands full with all of this.” She gestured vaguely to the screens behind her. “Plus, no TV in here and I don’t think monitors will count.”

“I don’t have a television set in my dorm room,” Yusuke said. “So regrettably I must leave that task to you all.”

“Sure,” Ren said quietly, and Morgana turned to him with a look of betrayal deep set on his face.

“But sleep is important!” he insisted.

“I’ll check if I’m still awake,” Ren amended, and Morgana nodded in approval.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Ann said.

“I can try to,” Makoto said quietly. “If Sis thinks its a lead then she’ll probably be watching, I can pretend that she woke me up or something.”

“Cool!” Futaba said, offering a thumbs up. “Get on with it team, and don’t forget to get me souvenirs from Hawaii _and_ LA!”

The reminder of the school trips coming up lightened the mood of the room a little, but soon enough the Thieves were filing out of the Sakura house and heading off to do their own thing with the rest of the day. Ren only made it halfway down the street before his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he withdrew it to see a string of messages from Futaba.

**there’s stuff about you in the akechi folder btw**

**not a lot, but enough that you’re a Person Of Interest**

**just so you know**

“Well… we kinda thought that might have been the case,” Morgana said from his shoulder, ears twitching. “Still, this isn’t good.”

Ren nodded and typed out a quick reply.

**Thanks for letting me know.**

**np, just don’t act too sus around her if she comes back**

**if she starts asking too many questions we might be in trouble**

**I’ll be careful. Thanks Futaba**.

He tucked his phone away and headed back to Leblanc, giving Sojiro a hand with the customers and practising making coffee while Morgana watched. Morgana was a little more subdued than usual, but Ren didn’t have much of a chance to ask him if he was okay while he was working and Sojiro was explaining the different types of coffee beans.

When he was already in his pyjamas, glancing suspiciously at the old TV at the far end of the room, Morgana shifted uncomfortably from where he was sitting at the end of his bed.

“Hey,” he said carefully, “can… can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can,” Ren said, reaching out to him. “What’s up?”

Morgana hesitated, looking away from him. “Do you… do you really think that Futaba is more useful than I am?”

Ren blinked at him. “You’re not useless, Morgana.”

“I didn’t say I was _useless,”_ Morgana huffed, hunching in on himself a little. “But she can do cool stuff, right? All I can do is turn into a car...”

“It isn’t a contest,” Ren reminded him, but as Morgana’s ears drooped he switched tactic. “You’re a vital member of the team. There wouldn’t be a team without you, Morgana.”

He didn’t quite look like he believed him, but he looked a little less miserable than a moment ago. On a whim Ren reached out and petted Morgana’s head, and he leaned into the touch. For a moment everything was well, and then Ren’s phone buzzed next to him and Morgana moved away from him.

“Is that Futaba again?” he mumbled, ears flattening and self-conscious again, and Ren reached for it and looked at the screen.

**Hey there, Rival.**

Ren frowned at both the message and the unknown number attached to it. Morgana padded a little closer to him, peering over his arm at the phone.

“Huh?” Morgana said. “Who’s that?”

Ren was about to say he had no idea when another message popped up.

**Did you even like him? Be honest.**

Unease began to bubble in Ren’s chest, and he opened the chat app. There was a series of dots showing that the stranger was typing, and his heart began to pound as he waited for them to finish whatever they were going to say next.

**Did you know you’re his only friend? I bet you think he’s just as annoying as I do.**

“Are...” Morgana said, voice soft and horrified, “are they talking about Akechi?”

**Bet you can’t wait to see him hanging from the 109.**

Morgana let out a startled yowl, and Ren’s breath caught as the mental image came to him, so horrifically vivid, of himself standing in the middle of the Shibuya crossing, and the familiar silhouette of the boy who had been his friend dangling in front of the enormous screen across the department store. Nausea coiling in his stomach, his thumb moved haltingly across the screen.

**Please don’t hurt him.**

_This could just be a sick prank,_ he reminded himself. _You don’t know it’s the kidnapper._

But who in Tokyo who had his number also knew that he was friends with Akechi? They’d called him ‘rival’ - did that mean that Akechi had talked about him? Had they _made_ Akechi talk about him?

**That’s up to him.**

**So far he’s been a little bitch.**

**Wonder how long my patience will last?**

“We need to tell someone,” Morgana said quickly, tail lashing from side to side. “The police, or the older Niijima-”

“My phone has the Phantom Thief chats on it,” Ren muttered, barely able to push the words past his lips. The hand holding his phone was shaking. “If I hand it in to the police we’re done.”

“Futaba, then!” Morgana cried. “She can do things with phones, right? She has to be able to help with this!”

Futaba. Yes, of course Futaba could help, but as Ren was about to back out of the chat and message her the typing dots appeared again and he froze.

**And don’t bother calling the police, Rival.**

**If you do, they’ll never get to him in time.**

Ren gritted his teeth and took a screenshot of the messages. He went into the Phantom Thieves chat and sent the screenshot, typing a simple _‘we have a problem’_ before switching back to the kidnapper.

**Why are you doing this? He hasn’t done anything to you**

**Are you sure about that?**

Messages were already beginning to come in from the Phantom Thieves chat, the text notifications appearing at the top of his phone. He caught sight of Makoto and Ryuji demanding an explanation before the typing dots appeared again.

**Although, maybe I don’t need a reason.**

**Maybe I’m just doing this because I can.**

Ren’s skin was crawling, and a message from Futaba came in across the top of the screen. Morgana craned his neck to get a better look.

“She says she’ll try to trace the number,” Morgana said just as that message disappeared to be replaced by another from Makoto. “Makoto wants you to keep them talking.”

“I don’t want to piss them off,” Ren said softly, a little desperation creeping into his voice. What if he said something without thinking and they decided to take it out on Akechi? This wasn’t like the Shadow negotiations he could pull off so effortlessly in the Metaverse – there were no tells here that he could exploit, and he wasn’t the one in control. Now he was the one with a gun at his head; no, it was even worse – they were pointing a gun at his friend’s head, maybe not even figuratively, and he wouldn’t know if he had said the wrong thing until it was too late.

Here he didn’t have Joker’s power of persuasion; once again he was just Ren, forced to just stand by and watch as his life fell apart and people got hurt. Sitting in his chest was a helplessness that he hadn’t truly felt since Kamoshida’s Castle, and he was still waiting for the righteous anger to chase it away and guide him toward whatever he could do.

“You can do this, Joker,” Morgana said from his side. “They’re being creepy about it, but they’re saying that he’s still alive right? It’s been weeks now, maybe he’s still alive for a reason?”

Ren tried to cling to that. Everything that the kidnapper was saying implied that Akechi was still alive, even if he was threatening him. He took in a deep breath and typed another message.

**Please, give me something to prove that he’s alive**

**Sounds like something a cop would suggest.**

**Sure you want to turn to them, delinquent boy? After what I just told you?**

Ren sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. How did this guy know that he had a record? He hadn’t even been sure if Akechi knew that about him, if he’d gone to the effort of looking into his past-

But this wasn’t about him – this was about Akechi, and he wasn’t going to let himself be sidetracked.

**No cops I swear. I’m just worried about him**

Another message from Futaba, although Ren could barely pull his eyes away from the kidnapper’s messages. Morgana, at least, seemed to be taking his new job as Phantom Thief text reader in stride.

“She says he’s in Tokyo,” he read. “Somewhere near Chiyoda, closer to Kanda than Akihabara.” More messages piling into the group chat, almost quicker than his eyes could track, but the typing dots were back. “It’s a new phone but only has the basics, it doesn’t have GPS so she’s going off of phone networks. It was bought with cash so there isn’t a card she can track.” He paused, glancing at Ren. “She’s asking if you have Akechi’s number, to try texting it to see if it’s in the same place.”

Right. He could do that. He opened the previous messages to Akechi, tried to ignore the stab of guilt that pierced him at the unread messages that were just more evidence of his failure as a friend, and typed another quick message.

**please be ok**

The message sat there for a moment, and then the words were greyed out.

_message not sent_

Morgana let out a quiet hiss, and Ren cursed under his breath just as another message from the kidnapper came in.

**You should be.**

**But if you want to see him alive, then look into a turned off TV at midnight when it’s raining.**

**Just better hope it’s not foggy the day after.**

Ren’s brow furrowed. Those instructions made no sense whatsoever, although they did call back to what Futaba had suggested they do, but the mention of fog had completely thrown him off.

**Foggy?**

**When the fog comes, he dies.**

Ren’s breath caught, and he took a screenshot of the most recent set of messages and posted them in the Phantom Thief chat. Maybe they’d be able to think of a possible reason how looking at a turned off TV would show anything, or why someone would choose to commit murder depending on the weather.

But maybe fog was rare enough to give Akechi more time – had there even been a foggy day since Ren had come to Tokyo? If it took long enough then maybe they could find him before it was too late.

**Why?**

For a long moment there was no response, and as Ren waited for some kind of reply he felt a scream building up beneath his skin. Could any of this information even help, or was he just torturing himself with a situation that he had no way to control? Could any of them use any of this to get a name, a location and a distortion and bring an end to this the only way they knew how?

When his phone eventually lit up with a reply he turned toward it immediately, but the response that lit up his screen was the opposite of helpful.

**I already told you. Because I can.**

**Speak again soon.**

What followed was simply silence, even as Ren sent pleading texts practically begging for him to come back and give him some more information, any more information that could give them something to work with. But apparently the kidnapper had decided that he’d spent enough time tormenting teenagers over the phone and had probably decided to continue tormenting the teenager he had locked somewhere.

Ren tried to breathe, tried to slow the frantic pounding of his heart and smother the terror at the thought of his friend taken and trapped by some psychopath who was deciding whether he lived or died on the _weather_ of all things, and almost flinched when Morgana put a paw on his leg.

“Hey,” he said a little quiet, a little unsure, tail still twitching from side to side. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find him before it gets foggy and he’ll be fine.”

Ren took in a deep breath and nodded. He had to be strong. He had to pretend that they had the situation under control – even if he felt completely helpless, he couldn’t show it. “Yeah. We’ll… we’ll save him.”

Another message lit up his phone and Ren glanced down at it sharply, only to relax a tiny bit when he saw that it was from Makoto, sharing a screenshot of the weather forecast for the next week. It wasn’t set to rain at night for a few days, and thankfully fog was nowhere to be seen. If they could find out where he was being held before it rained, then maybe they could save him before he was forced to perform on TV.

There had to be something in Sae Niijima’s notes that would get them closer to a name, although they’d have to wait for that. They’d have to do their own investigation, see what else they could find, but they didn’t have the _time._ They were going to Hawaii and LA in a matter of days, and there would be nothing they could do while they were away. Ren had half a mind to ask Sojiro if he could stay behind with Morgana, so that he wasn’t just going to waste a few days that he could spend actively trying to save his friend, but he knew already that the man would never agree to it. He could already picture Sojiro telling him to use the time away from Tokyo to distract himself from the situation, to not just sit around worrying and driving himself mad with things that he couldn’t control.

But maybe, if they couldn’t find him before the rainy night, there would be something in the TV show that could tip them off. Akechi was smart, he was a detective – surely he could do something even if the odds were stacked against him, could slip in some kind of hint of where he was and who had done this to him. Surely he’d be able to even the odds and help save himself; he was Ren’s rival after all, and he wouldn’t let himself be defeated.

He had to believe that Akechi would make his way out of this. And if he couldn’t, then he would at least keep himself alive until they could save him.

*

There was another vigil for Akechi outside the police station.

Apparently some of his more vocal fans had arranged it online, deciding to show their support for the missing Detective Prince by crowding the area outside the station, bringing the usual flowers and candles as well as (inexplicably) coffee and various sweets, all of which would be left in an ugly heap when they eventually left. But once the school day ended it seemed like half of Tokyo’s teenage girl population had come to block the way into the precinct, linking arms, holding placards and singing like they were doing something worthwhile and not just making a nuisance of themselves.

“You can’t fault them for being enthusiastic, Niijima-san,” Adachi told her at their team meeting, like she hadn’t caught him gaping at the girls outside like a lecherous old man, despite being around twice their age. She could still hear their chants through the open windows, putting her even more on edge.

“How long until they stop showing their support and just start harassing officers for updates?” she demanded. “How long until they start actively impeding the investigation because it’s moving too slowly for them? This-” she gestured to the window outside, “-is just going to make the media pay us even more attention than they were already, which is going to get attention-seekers calling up every tip line to feed us lies and turn this into even more of a farce than it already is. We’re going to be overrun with hoax calls and liars insisting that they’re the ones who took him, and we’re going to have to look into every single one or else his fans outside that window are going to tell the papers that we’re not taking this seriously.”

Adachi blinked at her as Sae pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing deep and fighting back the irritation. Her team shared a glance between them, looking uneasy at the show of emotion. Outside the window Akechi’s fans were blasting some slow jazz ballad that he was apparently a fan of, and Sae counted to ten and tried to drown it out.

“No one has entered the TV studio after hours,” she hissed through her teeth, lowering her hand. “Our officers have swept the entire building, and there’s no sign of him or even a room that he could possibly be being kept in there. At least three officers are staking out the studio anyway at all hours to make sure that no one suspicious enters the building, and their security have strict instructions to inform us of anything unusual. Hashimoto-” one of the officers immediately stood up at the mention of his name “-I want you to get a warrant to look into Okumura Foods’ accounts, and see if there are have been any unusual payments over the last month or so. This includes the bank accounts of any high-ranking official within the company. Make a note of any payments to individuals in the entertainment industry as well.”

“You’re sure that Okumura Foods has something to do with this, Niijima-san?” another officer asked, doubt clear in his voice.

“No, I’m not,” Sae answered, voice cold. “If I was certain then I would be breaking down Okumura’s door already. This is why we’re investigating, to gather the facts.”

The officer nodded, but Sae could already see that he thought she was barking up the wrong tree. But it didn’t matter what he thought – what mattered was finding something suspicious in Okumura’s accounts, something that she could use to get some sort of hint of where Akechi was and how to find him before it was too late.

She was about to go over the facts again when there was a knock on the door of the conference room she was using, and a familiar, harried-looking officer pushed open the door and gave a short bow.

“Niijima-san,” he said, sounding a little out of breath, “I have the forensics results from Akechi-kun’s apartment.”

All of the officers suddenly looked a lot more interested, and she strode quickly across the room, holding her hand out for a file.

“Summarise it for me,” she ordered, and the forensics officer audibly swallowed.

“Well… positively, there are no signs of blood or any strong cleaning fluids that would suggest an attempt to remove such evidence. Likewise there have been no traces of drugs. However, we also have found no traces of DNA aside from Akechi himself and some of the officers who were on the scene.” He passed her the file. “Despite the state of the apartment, there were no scuff marks on the floor, nor footprints. Whoever was in the apartment was extremely careful to leave no trace.”

Sae grimaced at the file, drumming her nails across the back of it.

“And there was no one approaching Akechi’s apartment on or after the nineteenth?” she said, and received a chorus of nods in response.

“I mean, if you think that some multi-millionaire CEO is involved then isn’t it possible that his people managed to alter the CCTV of his building, or paid off the security?” Adachi piped up from his chair. “Maybe someone is trying to hide the evidence.”

Sae stared at him as she mulled over the possibility. Could they have been paid off? Could there have been evidence that they’d disposed of?

“Unlikely,” she concluded. “Why would they alter the CCTV and not fix the damage in the apartment?” She glanced away, chewing on her lower lip. “There are no blind spots in the hall, no one heard a struggle, no one reports seeing or hearing Akechi even go back to his apartment on the nineteenth, let alone leave it in someone else’s company…”

“It almost sounds like he wasn’t taken from his apartment at all,” another officer, Watanabe, added, his tone making it sound more like a joke than a serious suggestion, but Sae paused. Could that have been possible? Could someone have trashed the apartment before or after the fact, likely in search of something, and then taken Akechi on his way home rather than _in_ his home?

It was an angle well worth pursuing, but if they could find evidence that Okumura Foods was involved and find where Akechi was now, then it wouldn’t matter if they’d begun by chasing the wrong leads. So long as they got the right result in the end, it didn’t matter how they got there.

“Okumura should be our priority,” she told her team. “Find a connection between that company and Akechi. And don’t forget to keep checking in on the studio – branch out and look for any other television studios that may be able to recreate the background seen in Akechi’s show. Contact any company that sells professional recording equipment for studios and see if there have been any unusual purchases in the last month.” She met the eye of every single member of her team. “We _will_ find him. No matter what it takes.”

Her team nodded in unison, determination set in each face, and with that she dismissed the meeting, sending them all off to follow their respective leads. Even if it felt like they were spinning in circles, every lead slipping through their fingers like water, they were bound to find something eventually. And when they did, they would bring Akechi back.

*

Goro stared at the creature that called itself Teddie, trying to figure out what the hell it actually was. ‘Teddie’ implied a bear, but he couldn’t say that he particularly saw anything bear-like in the bright blue and red costume. But still, he supposed if this… thing had come to ‘rescue’ him, then he shouldn’t really scoff at it. At least not where it could see, anyway.

“...Okay,” he said slowly. He could ask his questions once he was out of here. “Lead the way.”

Teddie’s expression brightened as much as the head of a mascot costume could, and he beckoned him closer.

“I was bear-y worried about you,” he said, ear twitching, and Goro steadfastly ignored the pitiful attempt at a pun. “I knew someone had been thrown in, but you were so far away! I had to walk _all_ the way here, and even though I went as fast as I could my poor paws could barely take it! I almost wore out my roller blades too...”

“You knew I was in here?” Goro repeated, and Teddie nodded.

“Yep! I could smell you!”

Goro paused, and decided that was another thing he could question once he was safely out of here. He took a step toward him, away from the Shadow, but his step stumbled slightly when the Shadow began to speak again.

“You aren’t leaving yet, are you? You’ve only just arrived here – you can’t leave me.”

Teddie paused, but he didn’t look disturbed at all by the sight of the Shadow or by it talking to him. He looked between Goro and the Shadow and waved a paw.

“Oh, right! Grr-o, this is your Shadow! It’s a manifestation of the stuff about yourself that you don’t want to accept, but if you do accept it then you’ll get stronger!”

Goro glanced at his Shadow, this grinning, injured thing who looked like it was going to fall over itself just to get closer to a creature that had deigned to look its way, and he sucked in a breath.

_You have to mean it,_ he reminded himself. _If_ _you don’t mean it, then it won’t work._

“I’m not entirely sure what it is I’m supposed to be accepting,” he admitted, and the Shadow’s grin widened. “It’s been exceptionally vague.”

“Would you like more clarity, then?” the Shadow asked, stepping closer to him. “I thought you liked to figure things out on your own, show the world just how clever you are? The great Goro Akechi, Detective Prince, making everyone stop and listen to whatever you have to say. Only feeling worthwhile when you have someone else’s eyes on you, watching you, seeing you – or seeing what you want to show them, anyway.” Its golden eyes were shining, clearly relishing this grand performance for its audience of two. “Tell me, Goro Akechi – if they knew what you are beneath all the polish and the lies and the masks, would they even want to look at you? If you stopped tearing pieces out of yourself to make yourself better and more worthy, would anyone even recognise you?” The Shadow tilted its head to the side, gaze critical and assessing. “Or maybe that’s not it. Maybe you’ve cut off so much of yourself that there is nothing left. If you strip away all the artifice, maybe there’s nothing underneath, nothing left to love. But maybe that’s the best case scenario – maybe the world would be a better place if you weren’t in it.”

Fury ignited in his chest and he curled his hands into fists. The Shadow caught the motion and satisfaction shone in its face, while Teddie looked between the two of them with increasing distress.

“You don’t have to accept that it’s true,” Teddie told him, ears twitching. “Just that it’s saying how you feel. If you accept that this is how you feel, then you can start to move past it and prove it wrong in the real world!”

“You won’t be able to prove me wrong though, will you?” the Shadow taunted. “You _know_ that the world is a better place without you. You know that you’re nothing but a parasite, a disease, a curse. You ruin everything and everyone that’s ever gone near you. No magic powers can save you from yourself.”

“So what?” he sneered, even as Teddie made a series of exaggerated arm movements in what was presumably an attempt to get him to shut up. “If I’m a curse, then I can still ruin the right people, make those who truly deserve it suffer-”

“But it’s never the right people, is it?” the Shadow shot back. “It’s always the people you want to love you who you hurt the most. You think Amamiya is the only person who has seen pieces of the real you and not wanted to run, and you know what Shido is going to do to him. What he’ll probably make _you_ do to him.” It stepped closer, and even though they were the same height it seemed to loom over him. “You wanted Wakaba to adopt you, and you broke her mind. Your own mother-”

_“Shut up!”_ Goro screamed in its face, and Teddie actually jumped. “Shut the fuck up! I don’t have to listen to this bullshit from some fucking stray thought with a complex! Nothing you have to say to me is news, so why bother saying it at all? I know all of this and I accept it, so why don’t you fade back into my subconscious where you belong and give me back my fucking Personas?!”

The Shadow paused for a moment, meeting his furious gaze with amusement, and it began to shake with laughter it didn’t bother to contain.

“Well done!” it said, clapping its hands as the chain between its wrists rattled. “Even when you drop the polite and princely act, you’ll still say anything that you think will get you what you want, won’t you? Maybe I should be honoured that I’m someone that you’d lie to in such a way.” It shook its head slightly. “Anger is so much easier to deal with, isn’t it? Cruel words and crueller actions are so easy to fall back on when you’re hurting… you’d do anything to show the world that you’re not hurting, that you’re better than such pathetic emotions that would only hold you back, but it only makes it even more obvious. You’re still lying to yourself. You still don’t accept me. And unless you truly face yourself and your fears, Goro Akechi, then you will never find your way out of here. Even having a guide won’t help you.”

The Shadow clicked its tongue, looking past him to smile apologetically at Teddie. “But look at me, neglecting the guest who came all this way to look at me specifically! I know that you think the real thing is better, even if no one alive has really seen the _real_ Goro Akechi, but I think you deserve to have some reward for coming all this way to see me. A piece of myself, for your pleasure.”

It reached for its right shoulder with its left hand, the chain having just enough slack to allow the motion, and dug its fingers deep into the seam of his jacket, where the sleeve connected to the rest of the blazer.

And, like it was little more than a doll with detachable parts, the Shadow promptly ripped its own arm off.

Goro staggered back in shock, expecting a spurt of gore from an open wound, but there was nothing like that. Instead the severed arm just dangled limply from the Shadow’s remaining hand, the glove and sleeve making it look like a broken piece of a mannequin, the chain around its wrist having severed itself and swinging like a macabre pendulum. The Shadow offered it to Teddie, but the ‘bear’ simply stared at it like he had no idea what to do with this development. After a moment without movement, the cheerful expression on the Shadow’s face darkened.

“What?” it demanded, its voice dropping to something much less accommodating. “Do you not want it? I’d give you a reward for seeking me out, a piece of myself just for you and you alone and you don’t even want it?”

“I… I don’t think that’s healthy,” Teddie said, eyes darting between the arm and the Shadow still holding it. “I don’t need you to lend a hand!”

Goro had to fight back the urge to attack Teddie himself for that pun, but the Shadow’s face twisted into something furious.

“You don’t want me? You don’t want anything to do with me?”

He threw the arm with force and it hit the ground hard, bouncing where it came to rest. Both Goro and Teddie recoiled from it.

“No,” the Shadow hissed. “No, you don’t get to deny me. You don’t get to ignore me and pretend that I’m not here, that I’m not better than you. If you’re not going to love me, then you aren’t going to get out of here alive!”

And then the arm began to move.

Teddie sprung in front of Goro like he was some sort of bodyguard, and they both watched in horror as the arm turned black as night and began to expand, the fabric of the jacket sleeve and the glove splitting apart as it swelled into something larger. As it grew it gained additional limbs, transforming from an arm to an enormous, hulking creature, a massive Shadow that stood between the two of them and Goro’s Shadow, clothes and a gun manifesting on it, making it look like some twisted sort of combination of both Goro and his Robin Hood Persona.

“Stay behind me!” Teddie said, shuffling from side to side in some semblance of a battle-ready pose, and while Goro wanted nothing more than to tear apart this thing himself he was well aware that he was still without a weapon. Although…

“Do you have any spare weapons?” he asked, glancing sidelong at Teddie, who, frustratingly, shook his head.

“I only have my bear claws,” he said. “But you shouldn’t be fighting! No one else who’s been in here before has been up to fight while they’re in here!”

_Other people have been in here?_ Goro filed that little piece of information away for later, and resigned himself to having to stand back like a useless tagalong.

“Bearsona!” Teddie shouted, and Goro watched as instead of tearing off the head of the mascot costume, a shining, pale blue card floated in front of the bear’s face, only to shatter with one strike from his claws. A large, red Persona bloomed behind him; a round being with what looked like a target painted on its stomach, holding up an enormous missile as a long blue cape billowed out behind it. It wasn’t like any of the Personas Goro had seen – it didn’t look like either of his, or any of the ones he’d seen spring up behind the Phantom Thieves, but even if Teddie hadn’t announced it as one, he still would have instantly recognised it as a Persona.

But if Personas were capable of appearing in this world, then why had his disappeared, drifting out of his reach? Was the different manner of summoning it due to the different world it manifested in, and was that the reason why his wouldn’t come to him and his Shadow had broken free?

He didn’t have time to mull it over much more before a burst of ice magic exploded out from the strange Persona, engulfing the Shadow in front of them. The Shadow barely reacted, shrugging off the attack and aiming the gun at Teddie. It fired and Teddie recoiled, taking the hit, and Goro wondered how many hits this thing could take. He didn’t think it would be arrogant to expect his Shadow to be strong, and most likely any creation that came from it wouldn’t be particularly easy to defeat either. And while he was used to fighting on his own and had learned every dirty trick he could in order to make himself the victor of every encounter, he had no idea how much experience Teddie had fighting in this world, or rather, how much experience he had fighting _alone._

Teddie boosted his attack power, a move that Goro had seen Joker pull off in Kaneshiro’s Palace, but left himself open to another attack from the Shadow. He didn’t manage to dodge that one either, and Goro wondered how many more hits this thing could take before it just collapsed. He patted down his pockets, searching for something that he could use other than the fire orb, and pulled out a handful of the curatives he had found in the various treasure chests scattered around. He hesitated for a moment before throwing one of the healing items with force, and even with a splitting headache and barely being able to even make out Teddie’s form with the fog flooding the world around them, his aim was accurate.

The healing item crumbled into bright sparks that danced over Teddie, and the bear blinked as he was suddenly invigorated. But as he turned toward Goro, probably to either thank him or tell him to run away, the Shadow looked over to him too. The sight of its golden eyes staring at him should have made him want to flee – he was still unarmed, still pretty much helpless aside from the orb of fire in his pocket. But instead of fear, adrenaline began to shoot through his veins, and a vicious, challenging grin sprung to his lips instead.

“Just try to hit me, you little shit!” he snarled, and the Shadow blinked before it raised its gun, aiming straight for Goro.

“Oh no you don’t! Persona!”

Another shattered card, another wave of ice enveloping the Shadow. It slowed it down, and Teddie managed to get another hit in while it was still reeling from the attack. But now that Goro had entered the fray – even as nothing more than support, when he’d never taken on that role before – he had gained the thing’s attention. Teddie swung for the Shadow again as it fired at Goro, and Goro leapt out of the way with a manic laugh.

“You call that an attack?” he sneered, and thus began a dance of attacking and evasion, Teddie dealing as much damage as he could with his strange Persona while Goro healed and dodged. The Shadow managed to hit him once, the gun firing before Goro had the chance to realise it had even been pointing at him, but the blow didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected considering he was completely without adequate armour. It knocked him back, stealing his breath for a moment, but then the exhilaration of an actual fight and blood in his mouth caught up with him and made him grin. This was so much better than just hiding behind someone else like he was useless.

The battle felt like it took both hours and mere seconds, but eventually the Shadow in front of them let out a groan and collapsed, falling to the ground and disappearing into ether. But just as Goro was about to approach its remains and see if it had dropped anything that he could use, there was a flash of pale blue light. He froze instinctively, tensing as he watched the light gathered into a line of four cards, floating gently in the air above where the Shadow had fallen. Teddie let out a surprised noise at the sight of it, and Goro turned his attention over to him.

“What is this?” he asked as the ‘bear’ grew closer to it, tilting his head as he tried to get a better look. The cards hung just out of the reach of his stubby little arms, but Goro thought that if he reached for them himself he would easily begin to grasp it.

“Sensei called it Shuffle Time,” Teddie explained, reaching up with a paw to bat unsuccessfully at the cards. “He picked out a card and all sorts of things happened – like more treasure chests, or no more Shadows on a floor, or even a new Persona!” _That_ caught Goro’s attention. “But only Sensei could do it. Yosuke tried a few times but it just didn’t work for him.” His ears dropped ever so slightly, and his eyes were downcast as he added in a mumble, “I miss Yosuke.”

Goro ignored that, striding over to where the cards were floating in the air. The images on them looked vaguely resembled tarot cards – he thought he could see a tower and a devil facing him – but he didn’t get a chance to have a good look before they suddenly began to move, spinning in wide arcs around him and overtaking one another like invisible hands were shuffling the deck. He could feel Teddie’s eyes on him, watching him intently as the cards began to move, but Goro kept his gaze ahead and tried to make a note of the cards as they flew past his face. There would be no point in spinning himself in circles trying to chase the cards if they were moving in a fixed pattern, and that was exactly what they seemed to be doing.

The tower crossed his path again, the devil on its heels, and Goro promptly ignored both of them. He doubted that either of their effects would be particularly beneficial. There was a card that looked like the six of wands, although his knowledge of the cards beyond the major arcana was rusty, and while he tracked that one with his eyes briefly he let it fly by without attempting to seize it. There was something else nestled among them, something moving too quickly for him to get much of an impression aside from white wings, but he was fairly certain that this thing was a Persona. He waited until it was almost in front of him again before he reached out quickly, snatching the card out of the air.

The card felt strangely fragile under his fingers, like spun sugar ready to break apart at his touch, and all of the other cards spinning around it abruptly disappeared. The card that he had grasped had an angel’s image on it, and as he looked at it a name sprung to mind. _Dominion._

There was a soft motion deep in his chest, something different and new quietly shuffling into the space where Robin Hood and Loki had been. Its presence felt strangely transient, less settling there and more temporarily sitting, like a sharp wind or strong emotion would send it running. Not replacing them, but just warming the space for their return.

But even so, this was the first time some other Persona had crept into his soul. Was this how Joker felt every time he bartered with the Shadows in Palaces, every time they dove into his mask like he had everything they could ever want? More importantly, did this mean that he had a real, true weapon in this strange place? He tried to focus on the new presence, feel if it had any familiar attacks, and raised an eyebrow when he sensed electric skills mixed in with the bless ones. Neither of his Personas had any electric skills before, that was something completely new-

“Wow, you can grab the cards?”

Teddie’s voice was incredibly close all of a sudden, and as Goro looked toward him he could see an expression of awe on his strange, plush face.

“No one could do that but Sensei!” Teddie continued, staring at him. “Do you have Sensei’s powers too?”

Goro hesitated, but he abruptly remembered what that voice had called him when he had entered this strange world - ‘wildcard’. What if he wasn’t the only wildcard? If there had been someone who had awakened to this world, like he had awakened to the Metaverse? Teddie had mentioned others who had been in this world before him…

He needed to know what information Teddie had, he realised, but there was something immediately more pressing.

“Where’s my Shadow?” he demanded, and Teddie blinked. He looked around them with exaggerated enthusiasm, and Goro gritted his teeth as he waited. He couldn’t see the Shadow anywhere nearby himself, but if Teddie could apparently smell these things…

“Not here!” Teddie assured him. “It looks like he’s run off to recover, probably on a higher floor!” Teddie’s expression grew more stern, and he waved a paw at Goro in reprimand. “That was beary reckless! You could have been in serious trouble!”

Goro pushed his paw away from him firmly, but plastered an apologetic smile on his face. “My apologies, but it seemed to work out well, didn’t it? Now, can you show me the way out of here?”

Teddie’s pout immediately disappeared. “Yes! Follow me, once we get out of here I can make a real exit and get you back to the real world!”

Goro felt a weight being lifted off of his shoulders, and he found his smile was much less forced than it was a moment ago. “Wonderful. Lead the way.”

Teddie began to walk away, each step squeaking obnoxiously as he did so, and as Goro followed him he found himself reaching for the Dominion now nestled in his soul. If he didn’t manage to accept himself before he escaped from this world, would he be permanently trading his own, true Personas for other, more pitiful ones?

_Unless you truly face yourself, Goro Akechi, then you will never find your way out of here. Even having a guide won’t help you._

He didn’t want to dwell on what the Shadow had said to him, or what it had been about to say before he had cut it off, but if he was going to get out of this world with his true Personas, he was going to have to give them more thought. He refused to let this world defeat him – he would make it out of here, and he would get the better of his Shadow. No matter what it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goro gets regular P4 shuffle time and not P4 Golden shuffle time because P4 shuffle time is much less convenient


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adachi visits Shinjuku, and Teddie shares some more information about the TV world.

Niijima had been running her team ragged for the last few weeks, but finally Adachi managed to make it away from his desk at a reasonable time on Sunday night, and decided that he deserved some time off to enjoy himself.

He joined some of his colleagues in a karaoke bar for a couple hours before complaining of a headache and leaving early, deciding that it would be best to shake off a police entourage if he wanted an actually fun night. So once he was sure that he wasn’t being followed he made his way deeper into Shinjuku, eyes drinking in the bright lights and packed buildings that were so exotic compared to the one pub in Inaba. It was almost like he was in another world. 

But it wasn’t just the establishments that caught his eye – this was the red light district after all, and there were so many women milling around street corners and host clubs that it was like a dream. But still, he fancied a few more drinks before he found a girl pretty enough to take back to his hotel, and he ended up heading for a hole in the wall bar that seemed to be the only one around that didn’t have a queue to get in. 

The sign above the door labelled it as Crossroads, and when he pushed open the door he saw a dimly lit plush purple bar, the scent of fruity cocktails and cigarette smoke milling in the air. There was some music playing that was much slower than the sort of music coming from the nearby clubs, but it was still subtly audible over the sound of its patrons talking and laughing between themselves. Nearly all of the booths were occupied, but there were a few spare stools at the bar either side of a woman with bright orange sunglasses perched on her head and at least half a dozen empty glasses strewn in front of her. 

“Welcome!” a gravelly voice called out in a singsong, and Adachi blinked and refocused his gaze on the speaker. A drag queen in a lush black and purple kimono wearing a frankly impressive amount of makeup, a friendly smile set on her face.

Adachi smiled back, wondering if this was the norm for Tokyo, and settled down in the spare stool next to the woman with the sunglasses. The bartender propped her chin up on a hand and regarded him.

“What can I get you, honey?”

“How about whatever you recommend?” he replied with his own smile, and as the bartender turned away Adachi caught sight of some shadow milling around in the back, a dark-haired boy taking glasses from the bar and nodding along to whatever nonsense the other patrons were saying, cracking a tiny smile when the bartender winked at him. There was something familiar about the kid, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. 

He looked away once his drink was placed in front of him, a brightly coloured cocktail that made him wish he’d just ordered a beer or something else normal that wouldn’t be grossly overpriced, but soon enough he found his gaze drawn back.

It took Adachi a moment to realise why the boy washing dishes held his attention more than the drag queen standing in front of him, but when he turned and briefly removed his glasses to clean the lenses Adachi realised he knew who he was. He’d looked up the boy’s picture after Niijima had given him the name, so that he’d be able to recognise him if he saw him in the street. Ren Amamiya, the no-good delinquent, who was probably the only friend that Akechi had. 

“Lala-chan, get me a refill!” the loud woman with the sunglasses was yelling, waving around her empty glass. Adachi tracked the movement, wondering how many more she’d need before she needed a nice man to help her to a cab back to her apartment… or a hotel room. 

“I think you’ve had enough, honey,” the bartender replied in a soft but firm voice, taking the glass before she dropped it and delicately passing it over to the delinquent behind her. 

“Ugh, no I haven’t,” the woman grumbled, folding her arms across the bar and lowering her head so she rested her chin on them. “My Phantom Thieves stories aren’t selling! Everyone just wants to know all about Akechi-kun and if anyone has any leads! It’s so _infuriating!_ ” Her expression fell into a disgruntled pout. “No one has any time when Kayo is the missing person, but once it’s some pretty boy everyone is falling over themselves to get the truth! They won’t let me do a missing persons’ piece, but they don’t want my Phantom Thieves ones either!”

Adachi idly spun his glass and raised an eyebrow at her, the seed of an idea beginning to form in his mind.

“Excuse me,” he said, planting an arm on the bar and leaning a little so that he was closer to the woman. He offered her a winning smile when she levelled him with an incredibly suspicious look that was exaggerated by her drunkenness. “Are you a journalist?”

Her trepidation fell away, and she raised an invisible glass to him as if she hadn’t noticed that ‘Lala’ had taken hers away. “The very best!” she announced. “Ichiko Ohya, the best damn reporter in Tokyo!”

A smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Adachi offered her his hand. “Tohru Adachi, detective on loan to the Tokyo Police Department.”

Something in Ohya’s eyes sharpened, and she leaned closer to him as if pulled by his orbit. 

“On loan?” she repeated, grasping his offered hand and shaking it for a bit too long. “For a big case?”

“Was for the biggest case,” he told her, lowering his voice to something conspiratorial. “I was called in for the Phantom Thieves case, but now I’ve been moved to Akechi-kun’s disappearance. Kinda like you, I suppose.”

Adachi could feel the boy’s eyes on him now, but he ignored it, focusing solely on the journalist. Let the kid hear – it would be more fun that way. 

“How is the investigation progressing?” Ohya asked, beginning to sound surprisingly sober. She was still listing to the side ever so slightly, and he could still smell alcohol heavy on her breath, but there was a steadiness to her gaze that hadn’t been there a moment prior, like the prospect of a story was enough to bring back her wits. “Have there been any developments that the police haven’t decided to share with the public?”

“Whoa there,” Adachi laughed, holding up his hands and leaning a little away from Ohya. “Anything I say has to be off the record, you hear me? If my boss hears about this then she’d have my head!”

“Off the record, sure,” Ohya assured him. “But that’s only if you actually have something.”

“Oh, I think I might have something.” He forced himself not to so much as glance at Amamiya even as his amusement began to grow, leaning closer to Ohya and lowering his voice. “So, my boss seems to think that Akechi might have gotten involved in some sort of conspiracy way over his head. Something to do with a bunch of criminals, yakuza, the works, and they got to him before he could get himself out.”

Ohya snorted loudly, leaning away from him and shaking her head. “Get serious, cop man. Akechi-kun wouldn’t have been involved in something like that.”

“Not alone, no. But boss seems to think that Akechi-kun was hanging around with a bad influence.” He paused for effect. “Apparently he’s best buddies with a delinquent, some kid who got sued for assault.” He saw Amamiya stiffen out of the corner of his eye, and heard some weird noise like a cat’s yowl coming from somewhere behind the bar. “Akechi-kun might not personally be involved in that sort of stuff, but if his friend was?” He shrugged languidly. “Maybe he tried to help him, because of his whole ‘justice’ shtick, and then got into trouble that he couldn’t get out of.”

“Sounds like a lot of baseless conjecture to me,” Ohya said, turning away from him, and Adachi fought back a flash of irritation. Who did this bitch think she was, questioning him? He was giving her _gold_ , she had nothing to prove that it was bullshit, so she had no reason to doubt anything he’d said. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” he said lightly. “But powerful yakuza could have taken him _and_ organised those freaky midnight TV shows.”

Ohya’s brows pinched together. “Midnight TV shows?” she repeated. 

“Oh, you haven’t seen them? They’re-” _hilarious_ “-really weird. If you check the TV at midnight when it’s raining, sometimes you see some weird stuff on there. It used to happen all the time in my old town, but no one’s sure why.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. It wasn’t bad, but he’d probably just go for sake next time. “Maybe the rain interferes with the signal and helps out anyone who’s trying to hijack the signal? Although it would take someone really rich or powerful to be able to send out another signal in the first place, replacing scheduled programming or whatever.” He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “If I knew all about TV stuff I wouldn’t have gone into law enforcement, y’know?”

The reporter looked like she was trying to work out how what he was saying could be true, and he wondered if she’d even be able to remember any of it when the morning came. He glanced over to the boy behind the bar, biting back the smirk that wanted to come out when their gazes met and held. This kid was _definitely_ going to be watching the Midnight Channel, and would probably be absolutely shocked by what he’d find. He widened his eyes slightly as he took in Amamiya’s blank, stoic expression, and the flicker of righteous anger in his gaze, partially obscured by the glasses. Aw, he might have even made him angry. 

“Oh, but don’t be alarmed!” he exclaimed, waving his arms and trying valiantly not to spill his drink. “We’re definitely going to save him no matter what!”

Amamiya glanced away with a small nod, and Adachi thought about just how desperate he had sounded through the texts on the phone, oh so scared that precious little Akechi would be hurt. So scared that the evil kidnapper would go through with his threats that he hadn’t even contacted the police about the texts – Adachi had checked for any reports, ready to ‘accidentally’ delete them, before realising that he didn’t need to bother. And, even though it may well have just been a trick of the light, he swore that there were dark circles under Amamiya’s eyes, suggesting that he hadn’t gotten much sleep since Adachi had sent those texts. Maybe he’d stayed up late trying to see proof that Akechi was alive on the Midnight Channel, even though it wasn’t due to rain until tomorrow. Teenagers were so ridiculous and sentimental. 

“Well, good luck with that, cop man,” Ohya said, and finally seemed to notice that her glass hadn’t been replaced. “Lala-chan! Come on, get me another drink!”

“I’ll get you a water,” ‘Lala’ said wryly, and cast a glance Adachi’s way. “Can I get you anything else, honey?”

Adachi glanced toward Ohya and smirked. “What are you drinking, Ohya-san?”

She blinked at him owlishly before she realised and grinned widely at him. “Tamagozake!” she declared, and Adachi turned back to Lala. 

“Two tamagozake, then.”

Both bartenders gave him a distinctly unimpressed look, and he offered his most innocent smile. What were they going to do about it anyway? Call the police because an officer was being friendly to a woman who may or may not be drunk?

Lala moved to make the drinks anyway, and Adachi turned to his new acquaintance and started asking her questions. It became obvious pretty quickly that she was much more interested in her drink than she was in him, but if he got a few more in her then that would probably change. It didn’t help that the bartender was watching him like a hawk now that she probably thought he was angling to take her customer home, but she was still happy enough to take his money. Loyalty only went so far when money was involved, after all.

The evening wore on in an easy haze of alcohol and conversation, Adachi biding his time as the rest of the patrons slowly began to trickle out. Eventually Amamiya disappeared from behind the bar – it was probably past his bedtime by now – and Adachi was just about to offer to call a cab for the reporter and help her home personally when the stupid bartender stumbled with his drink and spilled it all over him. She apologised profusely, offering to cover both the drink and his dry-cleaning bill, but by the time he’d finished trying to dry his shirt off in the restroom the bar was empty and the reporter was gone, and his entire goddamn evening was wasted. 

Well, maybe not entirely wasted. Now he knew a place where Akechi’s little ‘rival’ worked, and he could give himself a front-row seat to watch the kid lose his mind with worry. And maybe, if he played his cards right, between his phone number and his place of work he could mess the kid around enough to ruin his probation, and get him sent back to whatever juvie he’d managed to avoid. That’d teach him to think he could evade justice. 

Tokyo was turning out to be so much more fun than he’d expected.

*

Ren was still on edge even after he’d gotten back to Leblanc, the officer’s words ringing in his ears. 

They thought he was involved. They thought that Akechi had tried to save him from his own reckless, stupid behaviour and had paid for it. They thought it was his fault. 

As he brushed his teeth in the bathroom, staring at his own reflection and the dark circles that were so visible now he’d taken off his glasses, he wondered if there was some truth in that after all. Akechi had gained more notoriety over the last few months because of the Phantom Thieves – social media had turned on him because he and his team had stolen Kaneshiro’s heart and stopped Medjed, effectively undermining him. 

If the kidnapper had taken him just because they could, would they have even bothered to look his way if the Phantom Thieves hadn’t personally shone a spotlight on him? Was this just another move in the unjust game Igor insisted he was a player of, the trouble that had plagued Ren since he’d stepped foot in Tokyo dragging another into its orbit? He hadn’t had any strange dreams telling him that this was planned or that this was a new development, but did that really mean anything? 

If he went to the Velvet Room and asked Igor if this was his fault, would the old man do anything other than laugh? 

Morgana waited on the table at the top of the stairs as Ren ascended them, his tail swishing nervously from side to side. 

“Hey,” he said, as quiet and subdued as he was when he woke up afraid in the middle of the night, and he looked like he was about to continue when Ren’s phone began to buzz in his pyjama pants’ pocket. 

Morgana sat back down again as Ren pulled it out, frowning a little at the sight of Ohya’s name. Not that he didn’t particularly want to talk to her, but she usually only called him after they’d hung out properly and they hadn’t said more than two words to one another when he’d been working. He answered anyway – it would be good to hear that she’d gotten home safely either way. 

“Hello?”

_“Amamiya-kun!”_ She didn’t sound sober, but she wasn’t as drunk as he’d expected her to be after the amount of her glasses he’d taken away earlier. _“Good! I wanted to talk to you.”_

“Everything okay?” 

She let out a loud scoff, and he could practically see her rolling her eyes. _“That’s what I wanted to ask you! I saw the look on your face when that cop mentioned Akechi’s friend, and I thought hey, remember that day in July when you went to the aquarium and boom! There was Amamiya-kun and Akechi-kun together, looking like they were together-together? Plus, y’know, I told you that I looked into you and found out about the probation thing, so I know that it’s likely that cop man was talking about you.”_

“I’m not involved with any yakuza,” Ren said quickly, and Morgana’s ears drooped. “I’m not involved in anything like that, and I don’t know what happened to Akechi-kun.”

_“I know that, Amamiya-kun,”_ Ohya told him, abruptly more serious than she had been a moment ago. _“I know that none of this is your fault. I know that you’re a good kid. That’s why I’m calling, I wanted to tell you that I’m on your side, and I’m gonna help you out.”_ She paused for emphasis. _“I’m gonna make sure that any reporter who hears about Akechi’s delinquent friend doesn’t run a story about it.”_

Ren stood there bewildered for a moment, the words simply sitting there between them before they sunk in. _She believes in me. She’s willing to protect me because she trusts me._

“Are… are you sure?” he asked quietly. He had to stop and clear his throat, an awkward lump beginning to gather there. “I don’t… I don’t want to cause you trouble.”

_“Aww, kid. You’re not causing me any trouble. There’s a lotta vultures out there who wouldn’t leave you alone if this came out, and I wouldn’t wish that on any kid – let alone the kid that’s been helping me out with my Phantom Thief articles! Just leave it with me, I’ll make sure that everything is okay. No one’s gonna touch you.”_

“Thank you,” Ren said, meaning it more than anything, and Ohya gave a pleased chuckle. 

_“Don’t worry about it, kid. Look after yourself, okay?”_

She hung up, and Ren let out a long breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. It was a massive relief to know that someone believed in him and was willing to help him after everything Tokyo had thrown at him so far. But it was still so draining and frustrating to be reminded of the situation that had led him here in the first place, and the sword that was dangling over his head until his probation was over. It was easy to forget how if anything went wrong his entire life would be pulled away from him again.

Morgana stood up as he put his phone away, hopping off the table and heading to the bed as Ren shuffled over to it. 

“That’s good of her to help,” he said, and Ren nodded. “Are… are you doing okay?”

The lie was already on Ren’s lips – he was the leader, he couldn’t show weakness, he had to be fine. But Morgana was looking up at him with big, worried eyes, and wasn’t Morgana feeling low himself after Futaba had joined them? Maybe he’d understand; and if he couldn’t talk to his magical talking not-cat, then who could he talk to? 

“Been better,” he admitted. “It’s just… hard, not being able to do anything. We’ve always been able to help as soon as we knew someone was in trouble, but now...” Ren shook his head. “And we’re going to Hawaii soon, so we won’t even be in the right country to help if it gets even worse.”

Morgana’s ears twitched, and a determined look settled in his eyes. “I… I’ll still be here, with Futaba,” he said slowly. “I can check the TV every night when you’re not here to see if he’s there, and give detailed reports to Futaba to give to you all!”

Ren cracked a small smile, reaching out and scratching behind Morgana’s ears. 

“Thank you, Morgana. That’ll be a big help.”

Morgana puffed up proudly, leaning into the touch and smiling as much as he could and he gave a decisive nod. “We’ll find a way to help him. We’ll get to him in time, I know we will.”

Ren wished that he had his optimism, but all he could think about was the invisible countdown hanging over his head until the fog came. 

“Yeah,” he said anyway. “We will.”

*

Once or twice, Goro had entertained the notion of having a team. He’d wondered what it would be like to wander the Metaverse with a companion, a sidekick to help him with particularly difficult Shadows and to bounce off ideas for target’s keywords. It had been a foolish idle thought that he had dismissed quickly enough whenever it had arisen – how could he possibly trust someone enough to let them into the Metaverse? To let them in on his plan? It wasn’t possible, and it wasn’t worth entertaining.

Yet it had played on his mind when he had first seen Joker and the Phantom Thieves running around playing hero on his turf, jealousy igniting in his veins at the sight of these children teaming up and raising hell – these strangers who had somehow not only found a way to undo everything he had built, but find each other too.

But even with his childish musing and his jealousy of the Phantom Thieves, he never would have imagined that his first partner in another world would effectively be a living mascot costume.

Teddie wandered through the halls of his mind beside him, every step squeaking in a way that grated on Goro’s every nerve, and walking with a slow, awkward gait that had Goro slowing down his every step in an attempt to not leave his ‘rescuer’ behind. But somehow it was still more pleasant than walking alone, now that he knew that there was someone else who had entered this strange world and could therefore leave it again. Speaking of…

“How many floors did you climb before you found me?” Goro asked, and Teddie hummed. 

“I think I went up four,” he answered. “But they were pretty big floors, and there were lots of scary Shadows around. It was beary difficult to get through on my own!”

“On your own?” Goro repeated. His head was still pounding, still having to squint through the fog to see where he was going, but he was still determined to gather as much information as he could. “You mentioned some people before, others who have entered this world?”

“Yep!” Teddie said, brightening. “There were lots of us – Sensei and Yosuke and Chie and Yuki-chan and Kanji and Rise and Naoto!”

None of those names corresponded with any of the Phantom Thieves, but that wasn’t particularly comforting. Was there _another_ group that had access to the Metaverse that he didn’t know about? Shido would need to know about them, of course, but if they were active then why hadn’t he come across them during his own infiltrations? The Phantom Thieves had crashed into the Metaverse with all the grace of an elephant, so why would another team be any more subtle? 

Or were they just confined to this TV world, and hadn’t set foot in the Metaverse proper?

“Are they in here too?” Goro asked, keeping his voice innocently curious, and Teddie’s steps slowed a little. 

“No,” he said, his voice the quietest that Goro had heard from him yet. “I… I haven’t seen them in a long time.” He hesitated. “I… I come from this world, and after some things happened on the other side, I decided to come back and stay here. They all stayed behind in their own world.”

Goro offered him a sympathetic look while he filed away that information for later. If Teddie came from this world, did that mean he was some kind of unique Shadow? A Shadow that somehow had a Persona of its own? That should have been impossible, but this whole world didn’t seem to adhere to the rules that he knew. “I’m sorry to hear that. But won’t you tell me about them? How did they enter this world, how did they acquire their Personas?” 

“Oh, it was awful!” Teddie exclaimed, abruptly loud again. It was a miracle that they hadn’t come across any Shadows yet, with Teddie’s constant noise. “People were being kidnapped and thrown into this world, and they had no way to defend themselves! I didn’t know what was happening at first, and two of them died!”

Goro’s steps faltered, and he cut Teddie an incredulous glance. 

_“Died?”_ he repeated, something cold beginning to settle in his chest. He knew that injuries could happen in the Metaverse – serious injuries in fact – but they were all miraculously healed upon return to the real world. He hadn’t been particularly eager to test his theory, but he’d been under the impression that even mortal wounds sustained in the Metaverse could be healed once one set foot in the real world again. Even those he ‘killed’ in the Metaverse didn’t immediately drop dead, although they were merely Shadows and not the whole individual… “What?”

“That’s why we need to get you out as fast as possible!” Teddie said with a serious nod. “It’s the fog – while the fog is here the Shadows mostly keep to themselves, but when fog comes in the real world, the fog here lifts and the Shadows go crazy! They’re bad enough to each other, but if they find anyone else in here, then they attack them. We didn’t get to the first two in time, and they turned up dead in their own world, hanging in high places.”

Nausea roiled in Goro’s gut, and he stopped in his tracks. He could picture it in his mind – the fog that had apparently been obscuring him from the Shadows’ gazes lifting and leaving him open when he still had no real weapons to defend himself. Being torn apart by creatures he would normally be able to destroy without a second thought, his body left somewhere in Tokyo. His life and his revenge stolen away from him, and for what? The amusement of that piece of shit officer who had decided it was funny to kill him? 

He supposed that answered the question of what exactly that officer had thought he was doing by shoving him into a TV in the first place. 

“The other members of your team,” he said slowly. “Were they also thrown in here, originally?”

“Yep,” Teddie confirmed with a nod. “But we managed to get to them in time. They accepted their Shadows and got their Personas, and then helped us track down the killer and save anyone else who was thrown in!” He turned to look at Goro, his expression having changed to something thoughtful. “I think you’re the only one who had a Persona _before_ they came in here! And the only one who has walked around while their Shadow has been active too!”

Goro shrugged, wishing that he had thought ahead and not mentioned his Personas in front of this thing. “Ah well, maybe they just didn’t try to leave?” he asked, wanting to ignore the mention of his own Personas for as long as possible. “It’s a shame that your team disbanded before you could catch the killer.” 

Teddie hummed, his eyebrows drawing down, and it was strangely disturbing to see a plush face that shouldn’t be able to move changing like that. 

“It’s strange,” Teddie said. “We caught the culprit red-handed, so no one should be being pushed inside the TV anymore, but I swear I’ve smelled a few people in here before I smelled you. Did you fall in, Grr-o?”

“No,” Goro told him. “I was pushed in.” _By some creep who I’m going to murder for this._

“You were?” Teddie’s ears began to twitch, eyes widening. “Did you see who did it? Was it Namatame?”

“It was-” 

Sharp, sudden pain shot though his skull, and Goro cursed softly as his knees threatened to buckle. 

“Whoa!” Teddie moved closer to him, holding out his paws as if to steady him. “Are you okay?” 

Another wave of dizziness threatened to pull him under, and Goro instinctively threw out his arms to lean against Teddie’s round head. His plush fur was softer than he’d expected. 

“I think it’s raining outside,” he pushed through his teeth, and Teddie blinked. 

“Oh! The Midnight Channel!” 

_The what?_

“When it rains at midnight the Shadow-” Teddie cut himself off, making a small, distressed noise. “I can explain later! You look like you’re about to collapse!”

_I probably am,_ he thought, but he couldn’t quite push out the words. His head was spinning and his body felt weak, just like it had the last time when the Shadow had seemed to knock him out. His legs finally gave out and he collapsed against Teddie, who just managed to keep him upright. 

“Hold on!” Teddie said, his entire body twisting as he tried to look around him. “We’re nearly at the room with the chairs, there won’t be any Shadows in there!”

Goro had no choice but to let himself be tugged along by Teddie, trying to force his legs to move to keep up with him, but he had only just passed the threshold of the room Teddie had mentioned – a room that looked like it had held one of the enormous screens that had been on every floor, which meant it was probably near the stairs – when a cold sensation rushed through him, stealing his consciousness.

*

Makoto had set an alarm on her phone for 11:50, and was woken just on time by it vibrating beside her head. She turned off the alarm quickly, wondering for a moment why on earth she had set an alarm for such a time before she heard the patter of rain against her bedroom window. Right, the midnight TV show that she had promised Futaba she would check out. 

She pulled herself out of bed and wondered if she was making a big mistake by messing up her sleep schedule to check out something that sounded little more like an urban legend. Logically Akechi appearing on a turned off TV at midnight was about as likely as him turning up in a mirror if she said his name three times, but if there was a chance that this could provide some information about his situation then she refused to be the one who missed it. 

She checked her phone, wincing at the bright light in the darkness of her room, and spotted a few messages from Ann and Ryuji, who evidently were also awake. They all needed to get to sleep pretty quickly after this – the trip to Hawaii was looming, after all, and it was unlikely they’d be able to get all the sleep they needed on the plane. She typed a quick message confirming that she was also awake before she cracked open her door, padding out into the main room of her apartment. 

She almost flinched at the sight of Sae sitting on the couch and staring at the TV, her entire posture straight and tense, only lit by a single lamp that she’d turned on. She actually did flinch when her sister spun to face her. 

“Makoto?” Sae said, brows drawing down as her expression settled into something decidedly unimpressed, like her sister’s appearance in her own home was an unexpected inconvenience. “What are you doing up?” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Makoto lied, stepping further into the room and heading over to the kitchenette as quietly as she could. “I was just going to get myself a drink, see if that helps.”

Sae looked as though she wanted to tell her to get out, but her eyes darted to the clock against the wall, the minute hand creeping closer to midnight. Makoto could read the calculation in her eyes, and she remembered that the midnight TV show had been in Sae’s notes. She was probably trying to work out if she had enough time to waste insisting that Makoto go to bed before the show began. 

“Just stay quiet,” Sae ordered, turning away, and Makoto wondered if she should be offended or relieved. 

She moved quietly toward the counter, snagging a mug that had been left on the side and filling it with tap water while watching the TV. There wasn’t any movement on the screen that she could see, and her phone buzzed in the pocket of her pyjama shorts – probably Ryuji asking why it was taking so long. The clock ticked over to midnight, and Makoto held her breath.

Just as she had convinced herself that nothing was going to happen, there was a creaking, tuning sound, and the room was bathed in yellow light. 

She froze as the yellow light cleared and the screen revealed a television studio, and there in the middle of the screen was Goro Akechi, bruised and bloody and chained at the wrists, staring desperately at the camera. In her periphery she saw Sae grabbing a notebook and pen, but she could barely spare her sister a glance as the scene on the screen began to play out. 

“Hello again, dear, dear viewers!” Akechi said, smiling widely despite the split through his lower lip. “Once again, this is your Detective Prince Goro Akechi coming to you live for your viewing pleasure. I promised that I’d talk to you some more if more of you tuned in to watch me, and it looks like that paid off! There’s so many of you looking at me, I almost don’t know what to do with myself!” He raised a shackled hand to his lips coyly. “Oh, but I can’t break my promises. So tonight, here and now, I’m going to answer some of your frequently asked questions in a special, exclusive, Detective Prince interview.” 

A gaudy neon sign sprung up behind him out of nowhere, the bold red lights accented with gold as they announced GORO AKECHI: UNMASKED! 

“Let’s get right to it, shall we?” 

He peered just past the camera like he was searching for a cue before his eyes lit up. “Ah, there’s a good one! First question: Does anyone actually like you?” He gave a soft laugh, and guilt and unease began to turn in Makoto’s stomach. “The answer is no, of course not! Even my beloved fans only like a cultivated image, a pretty face, a smart shiny ideal that they can admire from afar. None of them know the real me, and none of them would want me if they did!” 

Canned applause rang out, and Sae made a quiet, disgusted noise that Makoto had to agree with. 

“Second question! Do you think you’re better off dead?” Makoto put down the mug before her heavy grip on it began to crack the ceramic, and couldn’t tear her eyes away from the wild grin splitting Akechi’s bloody face. “Of course I do!” He paused dramatically, and his grin faltered for a moment. “Oh, sorry, is that supposed to be a difficult question? I haven’t given such a personal interview in so long I’ve forgotten the best way to act – please forgive me.” 

He bowed toward the screen, but straightened quickly enough. “Oh, a follow-up question? Certainly! Question number three, the final question of this evening – don’t be greedy now, dear viewers, I have to make sure that you come back – is just one word. Why?” 

He tapped his chin. “Why am I better off dead?” he clarified, and he hummed. “Well, it’s a common consensus. Read through any message board discussing me, speak to anyone who has interacted with me outside of an interview, and you’ll get the same answer. Especially if you ask my beloved _father._ ” The word came out in a sneer, but he quickly got his expression back under control. “But that’s all the opinion of others, isn’t it? One shouldn’t be swayed by the thoughts of others, even if I’d rather die than see one single word spoken against me. So, I suppose, the real reason I’m better off dead, that the world would be better off without me would be...” 

He paused for dramatic effect, the camera zooming on his face, and Makoto and Sae both held their breath before he whispered to the camera, “...because I’m a murderer.”

“What?” Sae barked, making Makoto jump, and Akechi laughed. 

“Oh my, I’ve said too much! And sadly, we’re out of time for this evening! Tune in next time dear viewers, and be sure to think of more questions for me to answer for you now that you know I’m right here, waiting patiently for you to look at me again.” His bright smile and cheerful voice dropped away. “Even if you’ll never look at me the right way.”

He turned around and walked away, and the television screen glowed yellow before it turned itself off once more. 

For a moment Makoto simply stood and stared, and Sae reached for the phone she had propped up on the table, facing the TV, and tapped the screen a few times. Makoto realised belatedly that her sister had probably recorded the entire thing, now that she knew the Midnight Channel shows were actually real. Sae stood up slowly, and under the lights Makoto noticed that her sister’s face was very pale. 

“Sis,” Makoto whispered, and Sae rubbed at her forehead. “What… what _was_ that?” 

“Evidence,” Sae said shortly, packing away her notebook. “That we will be looking into closely. Just go to bed, Makoto. This doesn’t concern you.”

“But if that was real-” 

“I’m handling it!” Sae snapped, and Makoto flinched. Sae glared before brushing past her, heading toward her own room. “Goodnight, Makoto.”

Her door closed firmly behind her, and Makoto stared after her before she sighed and pulled out her still-buzzing phone. There were over a dozen messages staring back at her, all filled with the same shock and horror that she had felt at the sight that had greeted her on the screen. 

**Ryuji** : He looked hurt, that’s so messed up  
 **Ann** : He can’t really think that, right? The kidnapper has to be making him say that stuff

They were beginning to spiral, and she couldn’t blame them. The entire situation was vile, but losing their minds over it in the middle of the night was going to help no one, especially not Akechi. She was about to type something to that effect when Ren’s words appeared in the chat.

**Ren** : We’ll get him out. We’ll save him.

Makoto smiled at her phone. Even though Ren was the quietest one in the group chat, every time he spoke he had a calming effect. His assurances were unfailingly encouraging, even when the situations they found themselves in were increasingly dire. She glanced toward Sae’s door and wondered when exactly she had started finding comfort in someone other than her sister, but quickly pushed such thoughts aside. She didn’t need to focus on inconsequential things, not when there was a real situation that she could help with, and someone she could save. 

Maybe one day she’d be able to save her sister, but until Makoto could reach her, she’d settle for saving whoever she could. 

*

Shido was on his phone before the midnight show had ended, contacting the head of his PR team and glaring at the brat that was so determined to ruin everything they had spent the past two years building. Honestly, Akechi must be even more pathetic than he had thought if he was so weak that a few weeks with a kidnapper left him willing to divulge every last secret he had. 

The man at the end of the phone almost didn’t answer in time, and Shido was barking down the phone before the other even had the chance to speak. 

“Issue a gag order to every single media outlet in Tokyo. If any magazine or newspaper prints a single headline mentioning anything that Akechi said on that programme, then I’ll have not only their heads, but yours. Do you understand me?” 

_“Y-yes sir,”_ the man stammered. _“I’ll personally ensure that-”_

Shido hung up before he could finish his pitiful assurances, dialling a different number.

_“Hey there, boss,”_ the familiar voice of his yakuza cleaner drawled. _“What can I do for you?”_

“Have you found him yet?” he demanded, hand tightening around the phone. 

_“Afraid not, boss. None of the families in Tokyo have him, and the police don’t have anything solid yet. For now it’s just like he’s dropped off the map.”_

Shido ground his teeth together, drumming his spare hand on the side of his chair. The screen had long gone dark, but the image of Akechi standing there, bloody and bruised and smiling as he told the entirety of Tokyo that he was a murderer was burned on the back of his eyes, fuelling his rage. 

“The moment he crawls out of the woodwork inform me immediately,” he hissed. “And I want him and whoever took him taken care of.”

For a moment the cleaner was silent, before he hummed. 

_“Might be a bit difficult to do that with all the police sniffing around, boss.”_

“Use your goddamn brain,” he snarled. “If it turns into a hostage negotiation, ensure that your men make it fall apart. Either whoever took him shoots him dead, or one of ours does.” He leaned back in his chair, contemplating. “He’ll be the tragic victim who got caught in the crossfire, showing that we need new leadership to raise the standards of policing, ensuring that such a tragedy never happens again.”

The other man chuckled lowly on the end of the line. _“Always thinking of how best to spin things. You never stop, do you boss?”_

“If he’s decided to abandon ship in the final stretch, then I will ensure he drowns.” This debacle may have interrupted all of his plans, and meant that he would have to adjust things mere months before the election, the time when he needed absolutely everything to be perfect, but he would not allow Akechi’s carelessness to be his downfall. If the child was stupid and useless enough to play along with this little midnight performance, then he’d make certain he suffered for it, and erased any implication against him. He was so close to victory, he refused to let anyone interfere. “Find him, and end him.”

He hung up, moving on to the next person he needed to contact. The IT company president wouldn’t answer his phone so late at night, so he simply left a message on his personal phone. 

**We’re moving up the plans for the Phantom Thieves. Go ahead with the new poll over the next few days. Keep up the pressure on Okumura and keep me informed.**

This would be a delicate operation now that his Metaverse killer was indisposed, but he supposed this was what he got by relying too heavily on the abilities of a child. It was fortunate that he still had his own plans in mind, and had already considered how best to leverage Akechi’s death after the election. 

Now all he needed to do was find the best way to kill these pathetic Phantom Thieves once they had outlived their usefulness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves go to Hawaii, and the situation gets worse.

Goro woke up once again with a migraine in a strange world, but this time he was not alone. He caught a worried look on Teddie’s face before something like relief chased it away, and the bear-thing waved his paws about as he shakily sat up. He didn’t remember passing out anywhere near chairs, yet he was sprawled across set a set of them that matched the chairs that he’d sat in when the screen had shown him Sojiro and Wakaba. 

“I’m glad you’re awake!” Teddie said, smiling. “How are you feeling?”

Goro blinked, taking a moment to process the question and the genuine tone with which it was uttered. 

“...I’ve been better,” he answered, and he looked around the room again. There was an open doorway behind them, presumably leading to a set of stairs. “Did you move me into here?”

“Yep!” Teddie answered. “I couldn’t just leave you in the middle of the hall, any Shadow could have appeared there, but these rooms are special!”

_Safe rooms?_ Goro wondered, but he couldn’t dwell on it for too long. He still had to keep up the performance of a relatively helpless victim so Teddie would still be willing to help him get out. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate you not leaving me there.” He turned back toward the stairway. “Do those steps lead to a lower floor?”

“They will, but you should take it easy! We don’t need to leave right away!”

“The sooner I get out of here, the better,” Goro stated, climbing to his feet and hiding the slight wobble to his step. “I don’t want to waste more time, or give my Shadow another opportunity to do this to me again.” 

“Oh yeah!” Teddie exclaimed, waving his paws. “I was going to explain to you about the Midnight Channel!”

“Can you explain while we’re walking?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but wait a moment Grr-o! I have something for you, I made it while you were asleep!” He conjured something from behind him, holding it out to him in his mitten paw. Goro reached for it tentatively, but grimaced when he recognised what Teddie had given him: a pair of gag glasses with swirled lenses, complete with an exaggerated nose and moustache. A flare of irritation ignited in his chest, and he just barely stopped himself from crushing the glasses in his hand.

“...I’m not wearing these,” he said, and Teddie deflated. 

“B-but it’s tradition!” Teddie insisted. “Every person who joins us in the TV world gets the glasses!”

Goro didn’t even glance down at them. “I don’t need glasses, I need to get out of here.”

“Just put them on, and then I’ll give you your _real_ pair!”

It didn’t seem like Teddie was going to budge, and Goro grimaced. Was this really worth drawing a line over? He’d done much worse things in the Metaverse than just put on a stupid pair of glasses, and he couldn’t afford to waste more time. He took a deep breath, valiantly not rolling his eyes, and put on the glasses. 

Teddie did a little triumphant jump, smiling brightly at him, but after a few seconds the expression faltered. 

“It’s not the same without Yuki-chan’s laugh,” he lamented, and Goro took off the glasses, holding them out to the bear again. 

“Sorry,” he said, and Teddie shook himself before he took them back. 

“No, don’t worry about it!” He turned away from him, fiddling with something that Goro couldn’t see, and when he turned around again the gag glasses were gone and another pair were in his paws. “Try these on! I made them special!”

Goro did so, examining the brown rimmed glasses that had been passed over to him. They were large enough to be similar to the ones that Ren wore, although along the arms were a pattern of multicoloured bars, and they were only half-rimmed. The glass was slightly tinted, but at least they didn’t look ridiculous. He put them on and immediately froze. 

With the glasses on, the fog shrouding the world around him disappeared. He didn’t need to squint through the fog to see his hand in front of him, and he could already begin to feel his headache ebbing slightly. It wasn’t gone, but it was reduced, and he already felt better than he had ever since he had woken up inside the TV. 

“What _are_ these?” he asked, touching the rim of the glasses and lifting them slightly to gauge just how effective they were. Once the glass was no longer in front of him the fog was visible again, thick and suffocating, but when he put them back into place it was like it had never been there.

“They’re my special glasses!” Teddie said proudly. “I made a pair for every person who joined our team, once they got their Personas. But you already had your Personas, even before you came into this world, so you get them early!”

Goro looked at him, and belatedly realised that this was something that Teddie was giving him. It was a gift – a gift of something that could potentially save his life if they somehow got separated. 

“For me?” he clarified, and Teddie nodded. 

“Yep! My team isn’t here right now, but you’re still a Persona-user in this world, so you get the glasses! But I still don’t really understand how you have your Personas already, or how your Shadow broke off from you and took them away.”

Goro paused, deliberating. “If I tell you where I got my Personas, will you tell me what my Shadow is doing while I’m unconscious?”

_Your every relationship is transactional._ His Shadow’s statement rang in his mind, but he ignored it as Teddie’s ears twitched. 

“Sure! I was going to tell you anyway, but I’m beary curious about you!”

They started walking, and while Goro still was a little weak and wobbly on his feet, the glasses were game-changing. He’d be able to travel through the halls much more easily now that he could better see if any Shadows or treasure chests were lurking around the corner, although it had the unfortunate side effect of being able to see the details of the walls and environment around him. 

The tiled walkways they were walking along were surrounded on all sides by deep and wide moats of thin air, and now that the fog was reduced he could see that the gaps seemed to stretch downward endlessly, as if the lower floors only came into existence when they descended the stairs. But even with the space between the walkways and the surrounding walls he could still make out the posters lining them, the graphs and diagrams clear. The stylised eye of the Metaverse app seemed to blink at him from every wall, watching him closely, and he tried to keep his gaze straight ahead. The stairway was right there, and he began to descend with Teddie at his side.

“There’s another world with Personas, other than the real one and the TV world,” he said carefully. “It’s called the Metaverse.”

“Another one?” Teddie gasped. “Wow! Does that mean you have your own team too?” 

Goro thought of the Phantom Thieves, laughing as they rummaged around in people’s hearts together, barely able to comprehend their powers but somehow finding a way to use them without bloodshed, and he clenched his fists. 

“No,” he said shortly, and interrupted Teddie before he could say something inane about how he’d find a team some day. “Why do I fall unconscious when it rains in the real world?” 

“Well, it’s probably your Shadow making sure it isn’t interrupted when it shows up on the Midnight Channel,” Teddie answered. “I’ve never been in the TV with someone at midnight in the other world – we only ever went in during the day, never at night.”

Goro was about to ask that he explain what exactly the Midnight Channel was when the two of them emerged at the foot of the stairs, another enormous empty screen and set of chairs waiting for them. 

“Oh, it’s back?” Teddie said, sounding surprised, and discomfort began to crawl across Goro’s skin. 

“You’ve seen what’s on these screens?” he asked, and Teddie nodded. 

“Yeah, there’s one on every floor except at the entrance!”

That admission had something in Goro screaming that Teddie shouldn’t have been allowed to see this, that he had absolutely no right to rummage around in his head and see whatever his Shadow had decided to show the world, but it was already too late for him to do anything about it. Teddie had said he had walked up four floors, so he’d likely seen three screens already – but whether they were the same scenes that he had been shown or another entirely, he had no idea. 

“...Once we leave this place, I would appreciate you not mentioning anything you see on these screens with those outside,” he said, forcing his tone light. “As well as keeping the existence of my Personas to yourself, if you could.” 

“Oh.” Teddie’s voice was soft, and he didn’t look at Goro as he made his way over to one set of chairs. “I… I wasn’t going to leave with you, Grr-o.”

Goro frowned, but Teddie didn’t look like he wanted to elaborate, and frankly the bear not following him out into the real world would solve many problems that his presence would cause. So long as no one else came into this world to join him his secrets would be safe, so Goro didn’t press him. 

He made his way over to the opposite set of chairs from Teddie, and waited for the screen to light up. He glanced over when Teddie hopped off of his own chair and decided to sit on the one next to Goro instead, but it wasn’t enough of a transgression to justify shoving him away. 

The screen lit up, and it opened on a bright waiting room. Smiling cartoon animals, vaguely reminiscent of familiar mascots but their proportions just wrong enough to avoid copyright infringement were painted on the walls, mouths open in silent laughter and grinning brightly at whatever occupants would be inside. There were an assortment of children’s toys in a box in one corner, and on one low table was a little puzzle with bright beads on one end of a curled wire. It was clearly a waiting room intended for children, but the one boy in the room was a little older than the target demographic. 

The younger version of himself was around eight years old – Goro could tell by the vacancy in his wide eyes, and the clearly borrowed clothes that were both too big and too beige to be his own. This was a Goro Akechi who had only just lost his mother, and was probably still waiting to be sent to another foster home. The boy was crouched beside the door, his ear pressed against the wood, and the magic of a studio of the subconscious let the camera pan past the door and look in on a conversation that Goro had only ever heard through a closed door. 

The room lacked the same detail as the others he had entered, blank walls that his own memory couldn’t fill in, and the man behind the desk had a blurry, indistinct face, but the couple sitting opposite him were a little more clear. He hadn’t seen them in years – had only seen them once, in fact, but the day had been burned onto his memory. 

Soichiro Akechi, his mother’s brother, sat straight in the chair with a cold look in his eyes that Goro had never forgotten. His wife, a similarly stern woman whose name he thought was Ayane, matched his expression with painted lips pursed in a thin line. 

“I don’t appreciate being ambushed with the child,” Soichiro stated, the voice clearer than in his memory now that the camera had bypassed the door. “You said over the phone that this meeting would be solely between us, and the child would be elsewhere.”

“My apologies, Akechi-san. With the uncertainty regarding his care-”

“Uncertainty that you expect us to resolve,” Soichiro finished, voice full of derision. “Despite knowing full well that this child is not part of our family. We have washed our hands of anyone who would dishonour our family name so much as to bear an illegitimate child.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless that woman rectified her shame by marrying the child’s father before her death?”

The social worker squirmed uncomfortably. “Unfortunately, we’ve found no record suggesting that to be the case – no father has stepped forward-”

Soichiro scoffed. “That is what I expected. I’m afraid that you’re wasting your time by approaching us with this.”

“Akechi-san, please reconsider,” the social worker began to plead. “Goro-chan is a good, intelligent child, I am sure that he will bring you no trouble-”

“Is that why no one else will take him? From what I hear, the child is both a thug _and_ a thief. His existence is scandal enough, but you would have us harbour a criminal?”

“The child is grieving-” the social worker began to backtrack.

“And it is your organisation’s responsibility to comfort him, not ours! It is not our duty to take responsibility for that woman’s mistakes! She should not have had him in the first place!”

Rage roared in Goro’s chest, but as the camera looked to the boy on the other side of the door, he saw only quiet resignation in his younger self’s face. He had already heard such an assessment countless times before.

Soichiro took in a deep breath, and Ayane placed her hand over his. 

“We are good, respectable people,” Ayane said. “We have our own responsibilities and our own problems. Even if the child was perfect, which he clearly is not, we can hardly afford to open our home to a stranger. A grieving, traumatised stranger.” Her gaze hardened. “We cannot be expected to spend the rest of our lives cleaning up Yuri’s mistakes.”

The social worker was silent for a long moment, and Soichiro nodded. “This is our final word on the matter. The child was Yuri’s problem, we cannot afford to let him become ours.” The chairs scraped as they pushed them away, and the younger version of Goro scrambled away from the door and to one of the waiting room seats instead.

“...Thank you for your time,” the social worker said eventually, and the couple left the room. 

Goro was settled back in a chair like he had been there the whole time, and he met his uncle’s eyes with an expression he had hoped was pathetic enough to tug at his heartstrings and make him reconsider. But the look that his uncle gave him in return was full of disgust, an expression that echoed everything that he had heard through the door and had burned itself onto his memory. 

“Nobody wants me,” Goro’s Shadow’s voice whispered. “I was my mother’s problem. I was her biggest mistake. And now she’s rid of me, and I’m alone.”

Soichiro Akechi turned away, turning up his nose as he did so, and walked out of his life as the screen went dark. 

Goro let out a long breath, and Teddie tapped his arm. Goro only glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to see whatever pitying look was set on his face. 

“Grr-o,” he said slowly, “if you don’t accept that this is how you feel-”

“I know,” Goro snapped, climbing to his feet. “I heard you the first time. If the Shadow turns up again, I’ll accept it, okay? Otherwise let’s just get out of here.”

Teddie didn’t respond, and he didn’t try to continue the conversation as the massive screen sunk into the ground, revealing the path ahead. Goro started walking before Teddie left his seat, striding deeper into the place. He refused to let this place get to him and grind him down. He had a companion, glasses to help him see, and a substitute Persona – he would get out of this place easily.

*

Hawaii was beautiful. It was completely different to both Tokyo and his hometown, and Ren found himself enraptured by this new place and everything it had to offer. The sun, sea and beaches even managed to distract him from the looming concern for Akechi that had consumed him ever since he had received the text messages from his kidnapper. 

There hadn’t been another barrage of texts since the first lot, and frustratingly Futaba seemed to be unable to pinpoint his exact location. She’d given Ren strict instructions to let her know the minute he received any more suspicious texts, insisting that she could and would track down the kidnapper with all the fancy equipment on her PC – which of course made him think that there would be a creepy text waiting for him every time he checked his phone now that he was on the other side of the ocean from her tech. 

But his screen had remained empty, none of his contacts particularly wanting to risk the overseas charges they’d receive for messaging him now, and Ren found himself relaxing, his thoughts staying in Hawaii and not drifting to some unknown location somewhere around Kanda. Even though most of the other Thieves were with him, it was easy to forget what was waiting for them back in Tokyo – even if Mishima wouldn’t stop talking about the Phan Site and the rankings, helpfully letting them know that ‘Akechi’s kidnapper’ had overtaken Akechi himself for the person whose heart the public wanted the Phantom Thieves to change, although somehow Okumura was still at the top. 

But as they went to the beach again, Ryuji decided that it would be a great idea to gauge the popularity of the Phantom Thieves overseas. And so Ren found himself tagging along as Ryuji and Yusuke went over to random strangers and asked them in both Japanese and stilted English how they felt about the Phantom Thieves. And, amazingly, these strangers had heard about them. Even if they had only heard the name and didn’t know exactly who or what they were, the Phantom Thieves had still somehow made their overseas debut. They were famous, and while Ren was pretty sure he’d never hear the end of it, the fact that their achievements had crossed the ocean filled him with amazement. This was his team, his group of misfits and outcasts who had finally had enough and stood up for themselves, and people even here knew their name. His team that now had the eyes of the world on them, and were inspiring perfect strangers across the ocean.

He was still a little giddy when Ryuji pointed out the pretty, fluffy-haired girl sitting on a bench on her own, watching her phone while she worried at her lower lip, a little crease between her brows. 

“Hey there,” Ryuji said, and her gaze darted up before she turned off her phone screen and folded her hands neatly in her lap. 

“Oh, hello,” she replied in a soft, lilting voice. “Free time is ending soon, are you heading back to the hotel?”

Ryuji blinked at her in surprise, and Ren clocked the Shujin uniform skirt beneath her lilac blouse. 

“You’re from Shujin,” Ren acknowledged, and she nodded. 

“Oh! You’re the girl we saw watering the plants!” Ryuji exclaimed, and she nodded again. 

“I’m another one of the third year students chosen to chaperone the trip,” she explained and Ryuji straightened up, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Hey, so what do you think of the Phantom Thieves?” he asked her with a smile, and the girl’s eyes widened. 

“The Phantom Thieves?” She glanced away, the hand that had been holding her phone twitching, and when she spoke again she sounded much more guarded. “...Why do you ask?” 

“They’re famous now, right?” Ryuji continued, undeterred by her change in demeanour. “People believe in them even over here!”

“That may be,” the girl said quietly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “but...” She hesitated, and when she looked up her gaze darted between the three of them. “I, I used to cheer for them, after Kamoshida. Anyone who is willing to fight for those who cannot protect themselves deserves support, especially when it gets difficult. I will forever be grateful for what they did for those suffering because of that man.” 

Her expression hardened a little, but her eyes still looked a little scared, like she was afraid that speaking her mind would get her in trouble. Ren abruptly realised that they were three relatively tall boys cornering one small girl sitting alone and shifted back a little, giving her more space and loosening his posture. A tiny bit of her tension eased, and she took a breath before she continued.

“But that’s why after the latest poll, I feel that I cannot support them any longer.” She shook her head slightly. “I understand that they won’t like Akechi-kun after everything he’s said about them, but this… this goes beyond poor taste. It’s pointlessly cruel, and I cannot support a group that says they stand for justice when they openly advocate such vile things against a victim.”

“What?” Yusuke said, echoing the only thought in Ren’s mind as cold unease began to shoot through his veins. “What do you mean?”

Ann and Makoto took that moment to begin to wander back over, and the girl stood up, brushing down her skirt. 

“Please excuse me,” she said, bowing shortly, and made a swift exit. Makoto watched her leave with a curious look on her face, and Ann raised an eyebrow at the concerned expressions on her teammates’ faces.

“What’s going on?” Ann asked as all three of them began to check their phones, loading up the Phan Site. There were a list of text notifications presumably from Futaba flashing in the corner of his screen, but as soon as he had the Phan Site up he couldn’t stop the quiet curse that slipped out of his lips as Ryuji yelled out in horror.

**Poll: What should the kidnapper do to Akechi?  
Let him go  
Beat him up  
Cut his hair off  
Strip him  
Kill him**

“How utterly despicable,” Yusuke breathed, and Ann and Makoto leaned over their shoulders to peer at their phones.

“What the hell?” Ann gasped, and Makoto’s hand flew to her mouth. “Why is this on the Phan Site?”

A message from Futaba forced its way onto the front of his screen, blocking out the ghastly poll. 

**I’ve been trying to delete it all day  
every time I get rid it comes back  
looks like someones set up a bot to replicate it every time we delete it  
multiple bots from multiple ips, haven’t been able to block them all  
yet**

“Can’t you just like, stop them from making polls in the first place?” Ryuji asked, and another message popped up. 

**Not right now. I’ve been busy w. the data analysis, someone’s messed w. the coding  
someone who knows computers and coding**

“Is this Medjed again?” Makoto asked. “Are they hacking us back after we hacked into their website, just to imply that we had something to do with Akechi-kun’s disappearance?”

**could be,** Futaba allowed, **but like I said, medjed is more than just one person now**

“We need to shut this down though,” Ann said. “We can’t let this stay up.”

For a moment Futaba didn’t respond, but typing dots kept appearing and disappearing. 

**don’t get mad, but…  
maybe we should keep it up**

“Futaba,” Ren said, quiet and warning, and the dots reappeared. 

**hear me out!!  
the analysis of niijima’s data’s almost done  
once I have free time I can look into this properly, and it’ll be easier if they’re messing with our site and not someone else’s  
I redid the firewalls and stuff when I joined u guys, I’ve got a better shot of tracking them**

Ren wanted to argue that she just shut it down properly at all costs – the thought of their site hosting a poll of what should be done against his friend was sickening – but Futaba started typing again.

**this looks too technical to just be someone playing around  
if they can hack into the site, then maybe they can hack tvs at midnight too  
this could be the kidnapper, and if I can get a real ip address I’ll have a solid location  
not just kanda  
it might make finding them easier**

“But by hosting this, people could think that _we’re_ responsible,” Makoto said with a frown. “We’ve worked so hard to protect people and show how just we are, and this spits in the face of that.”

**once we get whoever does this, we can make them confess to messing with the site**  
it’s up to you guys, but think about it  
which is worse: 5 mins of suspicion, or wasting time? 

Ren could feel the others’ eyes on him, and he knew that his word on the matter would be final. He took a deep breath, his hands tightening on the phone. 

“If it can help you, use it,” he said. “But it shouldn’t stay on our site. After the analysis is over, get rid of this poll as soon as possible.”

**will do, leader.**

The messages disappeared, the Phan Site taking up the screen again, and Ren watched as counters beside each option began ticking up. ‘Let him go’ was trailing behind. He exited out of the site quickly, and Ryuji clapped a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“...Free time is up,” Makoto said quietly. “We should head back.”

“I’ll stay with you, dude,” Ryuji told him. “Help keep Mishima off your back.”

Oh god, he hadn’t even thought about Mishima. He’d be insufferable once he saw what had happened to his precious site, but at least Ryuji being there would make it a little easier. 

“Thanks, man,” he replied, and Ryuji patted his shoulder. 

The mood fully soured by the existence of the poll, the Phantom Thieves made their way back over to the hotel silently, wondering how badly this situation would affect their team.

*

Futaba had kicked Morgana out of her room not long after her text conversation with the other Phantom Thieves, apparently sick of his interruptions while she was busy cooing at whatever she had found in the analysis. So, unable to communicate with the Thieves himself because Futaba apparently didn’t want to do a phone call, and unable to figure out what the quick lines of code across the screens meant, Morgana was left alone and even more useless than he had been before the others had left.

He made his way from her room to the living room of the Sakura household, his tail curling around him as he sat in the middle of the floor, staring up at the blank screen of the television set looming above him, so much bigger than either of the TVs in Leblanc. He’d promised Ren he’d watch TV at midnight, keeping tabs on whatever Akechi was doing on there, and he had every intention of keeping his word. He’d never seen Ren look so pale as he had when Akechi had appeared on the screen – he’d prove his worth to them as the protector of the Phantom Thieves. Next time Akechi would appear he’d pick up on something important, and all of the other Thieves would acknowledge that he was a valued member of the team. 

Except it wasn’t raining, and the screen remained blank. 

“Oh, come on!” Morgana bristled, standing up and glaring at the screen. “Show up already!”

He hopped up on the TV stand, tail lashing as he stared at his own reflection in the glass. A small, harmless creature, only useful in the Metaverse and only then useful as a vehicle. Not useful as himself, only kept around because they’d feel bad about getting rid of him. He couldn’t even succeed in this tiny task he’d given himself; they’d probably all be relieved if he just disappeared.

“What am I doing wrong?” he asked, quieter this time as his ears drooped. “Why can’t I be human too?”

Morgana sighed softly, and lifted a paw to rest it on the glass. 

Except his paw went straight through the screen.

He leapt away from the TV with a yowl, scrambling away from the stand and raising his hackles as he stared at the screen. Black and white light rippled across the glass from where he had touched it, casting the room in a strange, unnatural glow, and as Morgana stared at it, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his pounding heart, he heard quick movement from behind him. The ripples disappeared from the screen after a second or two, the glass smoothing out like nothing unusual had happened, just as someone else appeared behind him.

“What was that?” Sojiro demanded, stumbling into the room in his pyjamas and fuzzy slippers, looking around the room before his gaze landed on the visibly-spooked Morgana. “Oh,” Sojiro said, voice softening. He crouched beside Morgana with a soft grunt, and easily scooped him into his arms. “What’s wrong, did you see a shadow or something?” He patted him gently, carrying him away from the TV screen. “Come with me, it’s okay. There’s nothing there, it’s just a shadow.”

“A shadow?” Morgana repeated. Sojiro quietly shushed him, but his mind was spinning. The studio that had been behind Akechi had been strange, something about it seeming familiar. The neon signs announcing the name of his TV show had literally come out of nowhere, and the Akechi on the screen had seemed to have no issue speaking uncomfortable truths that he doubted the real Akechi would have done on his own. 

What if it wasn’t Akechi on the screen, but Akechi’s Shadow? If he could stick his paw in the TV, what if someone could go straight into it? What if Akechi was actually _in_ the TV, and it was somehow linked to the Metaverse?

As Sojiro carried him toward the little blanket he’d set up once he’d learned that Morgana would be staying with them while Ren was away, a giddy feeling began to swell in his chest. 

He’d figured it out, all by himself! They didn’t need Futaba’s analysis, he’d found out that this was connected to the Metaverse! He couldn’t wait to show the Thieves his discovery and see the look of surprise on their faces. He glanced toward where Futaba’s door was, and smirked a little. Futaba didn’t need to know about this development right away – he could tell all of the Thieves together once they were all back in Tokyo, upstaging their ‘better’ navigator while she was giving her own explanation. 

He’d be the one who would lead them to Akechi’s rescue, and then they’d all see who the most useful member of the Phantom Thieves was. 

*

It was dead end after dead end, and Sae was getting increasingly frustrated. The video that she’d taken of the midnight performance had appeared grainy and unclear on her phone, Akechi’s body barely visible and the studio behind him nothing but indistinguishable colour. Similarly the audio had been warped and distorted, the words barely audible even when she turned up the volume as high as it would go. Nevertheless she had sent the video over to the forensics team, hoping that somehow they’d be able to enhance it enough for them to be able to properly see where Akechi was being held, but it was going to be a few days at least before they had any news either way.

But for now she was trying to arrange an interview with the increasingly elusive CEO of Okumura Foods, and see if there were any leads from the TV station. Okumura’s secretary was incredibly unhelpful, and Sae was beginning to think that she’d have to turn up unannounced in order to get any sort of statement from him. She’d only just managed to get off the phone, no closer to an appointment than she had been before she’d wasted over half an hour on a useless call, when the phone on her desk began to ring. The screen said it was an internal number, and she answered with a frown. 

“Hello?”

_“Niijima-san! There’s a man at the reception desk who says he needs to talk to you urgently. He’s refusing to leave unless he speaks to whoever is in charge of the psychotic breakdown incidents.”_

Sae stood up immediately. “I’ll be right there,” she said, hanging up before the receptionist could reply, and strode out of the room with her other team members’ eyes on her. 

Could this man really have information that she needed? Could this be the lead that she was waiting for? 

She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the lift to carry her to the reception desk, and once she was on the ground floor she strode forward and immediately saw the man in question. A short, round, bald man was standing by the desk, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief and visibly shaking even at her distance. There were dark sweat patches beneath the arms of his tan suit, and as she approached she realised why he was familiar. 

“Principal Kobayakawa?” Sae guessed, and the man turned toward her. His face was incredibly pale, his eyes wide and bulging, and he gave a jerky nod. She gave a polite bow. “Sae Niijima. I understand that you wished to talk with me?”

“Y-yes,” he stammered, bowing back and almost toppling over with how badly he was shaking. “I need to give a statement immediately, I can’t afford to lose any more time.”

“Is interview room three free?” Sae asked the receptionist over his shoulder, and at her nod she gestured for the man to follow her. “Come with me. I understand this involves the psychotic breakdown incidents?”

“Yes,” he answered, scrambling to walk alongside her. “B-but before I say anything, I need to know that I am safe. Can you offer me protection? Place me in a witness protection programme?”

She was about to tell him that such a thing depended on the information he had to share, but then she took in his obvious panic and anxiety and realised that if she couldn’t give him some kind of assurance then it was incredibly likely that he’d just turn tail and run. 

“Of course. We will do everything within our power to keep you safe.”

The man sagged in relief, and he quickly followed Sae into the interview room. He pretty much collapsed into the chair once he saw it, the chair creaking ominously as he did so, and Sae tugged a notebook out of her pocket. 

“Tell me exactly what information you have to share about the psychotic breakdown incidents.”

“R-right.” The man took a deep breath. “A p-politician with a position in the Diet has been causing psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns in exchange for political favours, and to cause political upheaval.”

Sae tried not to let her shock show on her face. This man was just going to confirm her suspicions that the incidents were connected, just off the bat? Nothing she had so far pointed to a politician, but then again Okumura was making noise about going into politics, wasn’t he? 

“What is the name of this politician?” she demanded. “How has he been causing these incidents?”

“I-I can’t tell you his name,” he stammered. “I’m risking my life just being here – if he knows that I gave his name then he’ll kill me and all of my family, I know he will!”

“We can protect you-”

“Not all of us. All he needs is a full name, and he can destroy you.”

“Just a name?” Sae repeated, doubt beginning to creep into her voice. That sounded far too fantastical to be real, like it was something out of an anime, but the man was nodding wildly. 

“He takes their names and then days, weeks later, they’re suffering from a psychotic breakdown or a mental shutdown,” he told her. “I don’t know how he does it, but he does.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I think the Phantom Thieves work in a similar way.”

Sae’s brows furrowed, and her pen paused where she had been making notes. “The Phantom Thieves?”

“Yes – he was certain they were based in my school, and wanted me to uncover their identities. I searched for them, recruited students for the task, but he wouldn’t have wanted to have their identities unless they were involved in his business somehow!”

“Recruited students?” Sae repeated. The police had investigated the student body initially but gained nothing from it, but perhaps they’d learned something else since the last investigation?

“Yes,” the principal said, and he hesitated. “I asked the student council president to investigate them.”

_Makoto?_ Sae realised, anger igniting in her chest, but she kept her expression completely neutral. 

“I see,” she said instead, folding her arms. “So to summarise, the culprit behind these incidents is a politician who is interested in the Phantom Thieves, and uses similar methods to them?”

“Yes. You need to find and catch him quickly, to stop him from doing this again to more people-”

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Kobayakawa clammed up immediately. 

“What is it?” Sae called, and the door opened to reveal two uniformed men standing in the doorway. 

“Your time is up, Niijima-san,” one of them said. “We need to take an official statement, considering that you are not police.”

She frowned, wanting nothing more to argue, but she’d already spent years arguing with such people. 

“Fine,” she said curtly, closing her notebook and stepping away. “Thank you for your time, Kobayakawa-san.” She gave a short bow in his direction before stepping out of the door. One of the officers moved past her to take her place in the interview room, while the other lingered in the doorway, allowing the door to close behind their colleague. 

“Did he say anything useful to you, Niijima-san?” he asked, and she scowled. 

“No. He just spun a tale of some man who apparently only needs a name to cause a psychotic breakdown.” She shook her head. “He couldn’t even give me a name, only spout nonsense. I imagine that you’ll be wasting your time taking any statement from him.”

The man nodded sympathetically. “Apologies for the waste of your time, Niijima-san. Good luck with your investigation.”

“Thank you.” She stepped away from the interview room and headed back toward the office, rage simmering beneath her skin. 

Makoto was investigating the Phantom Thieves. Makoto was playing investigator when she knew that this case was Sae’s livelihood, when there were real consequences happening to people out in the real world. Was that why she had uttered that inane comment about Dad thinking justice was on the Phantom Thieves side? Did she think she was being helpful while she was running around chasing after things she had no right to get involved with?

Then there was the matter of her laptop. She’d spotted evidence of tampering but had brushed it off as paranoia… but what if it had been Makoto? What if her sister had taken advantage of her when her guard was down and had stolen from her laptop, and for what? For her principal’s letter of recommendation? For her own pathetic, infantile ‘investigation’? 

“Niijima-san!” 

One of her teammates waved her over, clutching their smartphone like an evidence bag, and Sae fought to keep her expression under control. He showed her the Phantom Thieves website, revealing a frankly disgusting poll that a horrifying number of people had already voted in, solidifying the need to rescue Akechi before it was too late. 

“Try to trace whoever posted this,” she ordered, and the officer bowed shortly and left. She checked her own phone, the little calendar notification in the corner letting her know that Makoto would be returning from her school trip this evening. She’d get to the bottom of this, and teach her sister not to interfere in business that didn’t affect her. 

*

When Makoto stepped through the door of her apartment, still vaguely jet-lagged and dragging her suitcase behind her, she was surprised to see Sae sitting at their table, at home and seemingly waiting for her. Her sister even closed the lid of her laptop once Makoto opened the door, apparently giving her her undivided attention, and Makoto wondered if the few days away from one another had made her sister actually miss her. 

“Oh, hey Sis,” she said with a small smile. “You’re home early – was work okay?”

Sae looked up, and the look of cold fury in her eyes was enough for the hesitant hope that had been building in her chest to flicker and die. 

“Makoto,” Sae said, anger clear in her voice, “for how long have you been undermining my investigation?”

Dread began to seep into her bones, and the smile fell off her face like it had never been there. 

“...What?” she whispered, her mind racing as she tried to piece together what Sae could possibly mean by that. _She can’t know that I’m part of the Phantom Thieves, there’s no way..._

“Don’t play dumb,” Sae snapped, slamming her hand down hard on the table. “I spoke to your principal. I know that you’ve been wasting time looking into the Phantom Thieves when you should be studying and making something of yourself!”

For a moment Makoto simply stared at her sister, relieved that it wasn’t the absolute worst case scenario but still wondering why on earth the principal had spoken with her sister and had decided to tell her now. Regardless, she needed to salvage this.

“I haven’t been investigating them since July,” she said, tightening her grip on the handle of her suitcase.

_“Investigating_ them,” Sae sneered, derision dripping from the words. “Just what do you think you are, some kind of detective?” Makoto pursed her lips, trying not to react to that, but Sae was still going. “Is this just a game to you? Or did you seriously believe that you were smart enough to figure them out while I’ve been spending months on this?” 

_I did find them,_ she thought a little desperately, _I am smart enough._

“Of course not,” Makoto said softly. “It… was just something I was asked to do by the principal, but I stopped. I didn’t think I’d be able to find them even if they were in my school, and I- I realised I should have been focusing on my studies and the entrance exams-”

“You stopped?” The disbelief in her voice was loud and obvious. “So it wasn’t you who stole the data from my laptop?”

The dread became a yawning chasm in her chest. 

“What?” Her voice came out as a squeak, and she could feel colour rising to her cheeks at the accusation. “Why would I-” _she already has a reason why, wrong question_ “-how would I even do that? When would I even have the chance to do that?”

“Is this why you just ‘woke up’ at midnight?” Sae pressed, avoiding her own questions entirely, pressing her until she made a mistake like she was one of the criminals she was interrogating. The realisation made Makoto feel sick. “You thought that Akechi-kun might appear and decided to use that in your investigation?”

“You think the Phantom Thieves are involved in his disappearance?” Makoto asked before she could stop herself, and she watched as disgust shone in her sister’s face. 

“Unbelievable.” 

_I need to salvage this._ “Sis, I-”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses! You’ve made it incredibly clear that you only think of my work – the work that I’ve fought for, that supports you, puts a roof over your head – as something so asinine and childish that even _you_ could do better!”

“Sis please, that isn’t what I think-”

“Get out.”

Makoto froze. “W-what?”

“You heard me.” Sae’s face was flushed with anger, her hands tight fists as she glared at Makoto. “If my work is something that you could do so easily, then go and do it! Go on, catch the Phantom Thieves yourself, bring Akechi-kun back and ace all of your exams if you’re so capable, but I’m not keeping you here for you to steal from me and undermine me!”

_She’s serious. Oh my god, she’s serious._ “S-Sis, please. I don’t have anywhere to go, we only have each other-”

“Aren’t you smart enough to figure something out?” She turned away, opening her laptop like the conversation was over, like she hadn’t just upended Makoto’s life. 

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know how important your work is to you, but the principal was putting a lot of pressure on me, and even so I stopped in July. I would never do anything to undermine you or your work.”

Sae didn’t answer, still not looking at her, and Makoto glanced down at the suitcase still held in her hand. She bit her lip, helpless tears stinging at her eyes, and took a deep breath. 

“I’ll… I’ll stay with a friend, tonight,” she said, leaning away from her and reaching for the doorknob at her back. “But Sis… you’re the most important person in my life. I promise that I’d never intentionally do anything to upset you or undermine your work.”

Sae still didn’t answer, and Makoto bit back a sigh before she opened the door again. “I’ll… I’ll see you soon, Sis.”

She stepped out into the hallway, and the door closed behind her with a resolute thud. She took in a shaky breath, half-muffled behind her hand, and tugged her phone out of her pocket as she stepped further down her hall, away from the door. She dialled the only number that she thought would be in a position to be able to help her, and prayed that her friend would still be awake and able to help. 

Thankfully, Ann picked up after only a few rings. 

_“Hey, Makoto! What’s up?”_

“Ann,” she began, squeezing her eyes shut when her voice came out more strained than she’d meant it to. “I’m so sorry about this, but can I… can I stay with you tonight?”

_“Huh? Of course you can, but what happened?”_

“Sis-” She took another deep breath. “Sis found out I was looking into the Phantom Thieves for the Principal and kicked me out. It might just be for a night, but I, I don’t have anywhere to go-”

There was rustling on the other side of the phone, like Ann was pulling on shoes and a jacket, and when she next spoke her friend’s voice was firm with resolve. _“Stay at your apartment, okay? I’ll be right there.”_ Makoto heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and Ann’s cheerful voice continued down the phone. _“My parents are going to be away for a while so you can stay with me as long as you need, okay? I have a really comfy couch and a big TV, I can make some really nice pancakes - it’ll be like that sleepover we were always supposed to have!”_

Relief washed over her, and Makoto let out a quiet laugh. “Thank you, Ann. I’m sorry-”

_“Don’t worry about a thing, seriously! It’ll all be okay - I’ll look after you, I promise.”_

And even as she stood on her own doorstep, clutching a suitcase full of worn clothes and clinging to the tattered remains of her relationship with her sister, Makoto believed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for over 100 kudos, and all of the lovely comments so far!! ^_^  
> (I swear the Phantom Thieves will make substantial progress soon!)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Futaba shares the information taken from Sae's computer, and Morgana shares his own discovery with the Phantom Thieves.

Goro and Teddie made their way through the floor in tense silence. Apparently the footage of his uncle had been enough to make even the chatty bear hold his tongue, although Goro couldn’t say he was particularly upset with this development. Without having to keep Teddie entertained, and with the glasses greatly improving his visual field in this world, he felt like he was making a hell of a lot more progress than he had before. If the bear was right and there were only three floors or so to go before he made his way out, then he’d be out of here before he knew it.

Goro had just pushed open another studio door when Teddie let out a loud, exaggerated gasp, and he jumped a little at the sudden noise.

“I was supposed to tell you about the Midnight Channel!” he exclaimed as Goro took a moment to count to ten in his head and not hit the thing. “I got distracted!”

“Well you can tell me about it now,” Goro said diplomatically, and Teddie nodded.

“Okay! I don’t really get exactly what it is, but what happens is that when it rains at midnight on the other side, the Shadow of whoever is stuck on this side appears on turned off TV screens! They sometimes turn up before someone gets thrown in too, but they’re all blurry. When there’s someone inside they’re really clear, and they start talking too!”

“Talking?” Goro repeated. He really didn’t like the sound of that. “What do they say?”

“Well, it depends on the person! I only actually saw Naoto-chan’s on the other side, and hers was talking about experiments and changing her body, but apparently Rise-chan showed up in a swimsuit and said she’d bare it all!”

“I… I see,” Goro said, feeling incredibly lost. Experiments and stripping? That didn’t sound like the usual fare for Shadows, the beasts that proudly announced all of their sins to anyone unfortunate enough to hear it. But maybe their younger age or the strange state of this world compared with the Metaverse made Teddie's teammates' Shadows behave differently. He thought about his own Shadow, the creature with chains on its wrists and with an injured face, and the implications of such an appearance considering his unique situation. Did the Shadow look like that because he felt trapped by Shido? And if his appearance in here was linked to Shido, then what did that mean his Shadow would say when all of the eyes of the public were on him? “So my Shadow will be turning up on TV screens at midnight when it rains, and… and telling my thoughts and feelings to the public?”

At Teddie’s nod, a hysterical laugh burst from him. Three times. Three times he’d been knocked out and woken up in this world, which meant that not only had he probably been stuck in here for much longer than three days in the real world, but three times his Shadow had held a performance where it could have spilled every single one of his carefully guarded secrets.

Everything he’d fought for, everything he’d bit and clawed and _killed_ for could have been torn to pieces. His revenge could be in tatters, Shido could have decided to cut his losses and be rid of him, he could set foot outside of this world and immediately be arrested for the midnight confessions that he’d had no part in. His life’s work could be utterly destroyed, and why? Because that detective who didn’t have a goddamn clue what he was messing with decided to try to kill him?

The moment he got out of here he’d have to go straight into Shido’s Palace. If Shido thought that he had turned traitor then the cognitions in there would probably try to kill him on sight, but if that was the case he was as good as dead on the outside anyway. He’d get his Personas back and salvage as much of this as he damn well could. He refused to let that detective bastard ruin him.

“Grr-o?” Teddie tried, a little apprehensive. “Are you okay?”

“Absolutely wonderful,” he hissed through clenched teeth, twisting his lips into a forced smile. “Let’s go and kill something.”

He strode away, hearing Teddie’s quick, squeaky steps as he rushed to follow him, and thankfully once he rounded another corner there was a slightly smaller Shadow than the ones upstairs dragging itself across the pale tiles. His fingers itched for a blade to hold, so instead he shrugged off his blazer to allow for better motion and walked right up to the thing, rolling his shoulder back before punching it right in the back of its ‘head’.

The Shadow let out a strange growl, and Goro hopped back before it transformed into a strange, enormous beetle, looking nothing like any of the Shadows Goro had seen in the Metaverse. His hand brushed against the fire orb that he still had in his pocket, and he was about to toss it at his enemy when Teddie shouted out.

“That enemy is weak to electricity!”

Well, that at least gave him the opportunity to use his new Persona. He reached for the place in his soul where Dominion had settled, one hand reaching up for the mask that wasn’t on his face.

“Dominion!” he snarled, and instead of blue fire flaring in front of his eyes instead there was blue light in his hand as the same card that he had plucked out of thin air manifested in front of him. He didn’t hesitate before crushing the card in his hand, feeling the power of the Persona rushing through his veins, emboldening him. “Zionga!”

The Persona sprung up in front of him, its white wings spreading wide as it brandished the golden scales held in its hand, and lightning crackled through the air. It struck the beetle Shadow head-on, the creature recoiling before falling flat on its back.

“Amazing, Grr-o!” Teddie called. “Now it’s time for an all-out attack!”

All-out attack? Like what the Phantom Thieves did when they struck an enemy’s weakness? He’d never been able to pull off something so unnecessarily flashy when he was on his own, but now that he had a partner…

“Let’s do it,” he snarled, and he charged at the downed Shadow at the same time as Teddie, pummelling it with his bare fists while Teddie slashed at it with his claws. The Shadow looked a hell of a lot worse for wear after the assault but didn’t fade away, and Goro was about to summon Dominion again and repeat the process when he realised that he could no longer feel a Persona there. He tried to reach for it as Teddie summoned his own Persona, shrouding the Shadow in ice, but once again it was as if nothing had been there at all.

Were the card Personas single-use only? Was his soul and Shadow currently too unstable to let him carry a Persona for longer than one attack?

The ice attack hadn’t downed the Persona, and something told him that the fire orb wouldn’t be of much help. So instead he charged right up to the Shadow and kicked it in the face. The Shadow recoiled before it swung its enormous horn at him, and Goro quickly leapt out of its way. Teddie ran up to it and slashed it with its claws, and Goro punched it again before it crumpled into smoke. He waited with bated breath to see if the cards would reappear, and let out a small, relieved sigh when three appeared where the Shadow had been, already beginning to spin through the air.

Goro looked at the cards as closely as he could at their speed, and caught sight of another one that could be a Persona – something cat shaped, holding a red banner in its hand. He supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

His hand shot out and grabbed the card, and he felt the new Persona settle where Dominion had been, still feeling fragile and transient. _Neko Shogun,_ his mind provided, and he felt some physical skills and minor healing abilities within the new Persona. Now that he knew they were only one use he would have to be careful about which skill he would use, and when. There was no guarantee that a card bearing a Persona would appear after every Shadow kill, after all.

“Great job!” Teddie said, punching the air in triumph. “We’ll get you out of here in no time!”

Goro nodded, glancing back toward where he had left his blazer before deciding it was probably best to leave it behind. He’d already lost his shoes – maybe the more visibly dishevelled he looked once this was all over, the better he could twist the situation to his advantage. There was always a chance that his Shadow would have kept his worst secrets under wraps, playing into his insecurities rather than his crimes, like the TV screens within this world seemed to do. Besides, there was always the potential that no one had actually seen the TV show, or that those who had had dismissed it as nonsense.

He knew that even if somehow he made it out of here with his reputation mostly intact Shido would never give him the benefit of the doubt, but he refused to die in this place and just accept that all of his work had amounted to nothing. His death would just convenience Shido at this point, and he refused to be anything resembling _convenient._ His inner self was a trickster, a god of chaos and disorder – he could and would turn this situation to his advantage. This was just a temporary setback, like the appearance of the Phantom Thieves had been.

No matter what, he would still win the game.

*

“Before we look at the data from my sister, there’s been a… development that we need to discuss.”

Makoto stood straight and tense beside the table Ren had set up in his attic room, absently brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Her nails had a soft sheen of pale peach gloss over them, barely noticeable and certainly not enough to break the school’s dress code, but still out of character for her. She looked a little tired, and Ann kept sending her little glances that spoke of both worry and pity, all of which put Ren a little on edge.

“What’s up?” Ryuji asked, shifting from where he was perched on the edge of Ren’s bed, and Makoto took in a deep breath.

“Apparently Principal Kobayakawa has approached my sister and told her that I had been investigating the Phantom Thieves for him. She doesn’t know that I am a Phantom Thief, but… she suspects that I took the information from her laptop. She-” She faltered, and Ann stood up from her chair to move over and wrap an arm around her shoulders. “She kicked me out last night.”

Ryuji’s mouth fell open, and Yusuke visibly recoiled. Futaba’s hands stilled where they had been rushing over the keys, and she glanced up at Makoto wide-eyed.

“You serious?” Ryuji said as Yusuke muttered something that sounded like ‘despicable’.

“I’m sorry, Makoto,” Futaba said softly, but Makoto shook her head.

“It’s no one’s fault. I should have told her when the principal first approached me, to avoid any issues like this. I only bring it up now to say that we need to be careful, as when I eventually return home I think my sister will be watching me more closely.” She played with her hair again. “It may not be a problem – she’s so busy right now that we barely see each other anyway, I can’t imagine she’ll suddenly start spending more time at home-”

“Makoto,” Ren said, and although he only spoke quietly Makoto immediately stopped talking. “Are you okay?”

Her expression faltered for a moment before determination shone in her eyes and she drew herself up taller.

“I will be,” she told him, and she turned to where Futaba was sitting at the table. “What have you found?”

“Well...” Futaba began, leaning back in her chair, “you tell them, Inari!”

“Why me?” Yusuke questioned, but he quickly acquiesced and wandered over to her computer, where he leaned over her shoulder to look at the screen. “Prosecutor Niijima has been looking into continued cases of people suddenly collapsing, trying to find a common thread tying them together. Although this is speculation, she has identified a beneficiary of the majority of these incidents. The CEO of Okumura Foods – Kunikazu Okumura.”

“Okumura?” Ryuji repeated. “Ain’t that the guy at the top of the poll right now?”

“Yes,” Makoto agreed with a nod. “The owner of Big Bang Burger.”

“It also says that the chain greatly benefited from the scandals and resignations that have occurred within their competitors’ businesses,” Yusuke continued, and Makoto frowned.

“If they were the only ones who have benefited from this, then it’s only natural to suspect that Okumura Foods is the one responsible,” she mused.

“He has a Palace as well,” Futaba added. “I checked.”

The Thieves were quiet a moment, contemplating this new development, when Ann broke the silence.

“Do… do you think Akechi had figured this out too?” Ann asked hesitantly, and the others’ gaze moved over to her. “I mean, he was looking into the Phantom Thieves, but wasn’t he also on the mental shutdown cases working alongside Prosecutor Niijima?” She glanced back toward the computer screen, biting her lip. “You don’t think…?”

Ren took in a sharp breath as he realised what she was suggesting. “You think the Black Mask could have kidnapped Akechi on Okumura’s orders?”

The others all recoiled at the thought.

“It’s… it’s possible,” Makoto said slowly, thinking it over. “A CEO could have the money and connections to have someone kept hidden somewhere, even if that someone is a teenage celebrity. He could even afford to set up those awful midnight TV shows...”

“Why would he bother with such a thing?” Yusuke asked. “If the Black Mask is involved, then why have him kidnap Akechi and force him to perform at midnight instead of simply using the powers of the Metaverse?”

“Well-” Futaba began as Morgana stood up.

“You guys are all thinking too small,” Morgana said, sounding incredibly smug as he hopped from the table in the middle of the room to the smaller one that had Ren’s TV and games console. Ren had seen him eyeing up the TV ever since he’d gotten back from Hawaii, and as Morgana sat beside it the not-cat’s tail began to twitch. “Try thinking outside the box for once. What if it isn’t the real Akechi that we’re seeing on the TV?”

“The real Akechi?” Ren repeated, and Ryuji stomped his foot.

“What are you talking about? Of course it’s the real Akechi!”

“You sure?” Morgana goaded, lifting a paw slowly. “You don’t think it could be his Shadow?”

“He wasn’t a hit in the MetaNav,” Futaba said, and Morgana scoffed, undaunted.

“Still stuck on the Nav, are you? A true navigator would think of every possibility.” His eyes glittered. “Like the possibility of another route into the Metaverse.”

And then he stuck his paw through the television screen.

The Thieves let out a collective yell that had Sojiro shouting up the stairs for them to quieten down, but Morgana kept his paw firmly inside the screen even as black and white swirls spun outward from his limb.

“How the hell are you doing that?!” Ryuji demanded, and Ren had to fight back the intense urge to grab his cat and move him away from the TV. Futaba looked just as shocked as everyone else so it couldn’t have just been a prank that the two of them had thought up while everyone else was abroad, but his mind still struggled to process exactly what he was seeing.

_Why is this a big issue?_ he wondered. _You jump into people’s hearts, but going into the TV is too much?_

“It looks like TVs are routes into the Metaverse too,” Morgana said, and he finally withdrew his paw from the screen. “So maybe Akechi is in there and we see his Shadow on the screen, and because he’s in there it doesn’t appear in your app.” He stretched languidly, giving them a smug smile. “So, what do you guys say? Shall we go in and investigate?”

Ren eyed the tiny TV screen. Unless it shrank them somehow, it looked like they were all too big to fit their shoulders in, no matter what angle they approached the screen at.

“Hold on,” Makoto said sharply. “If this… if this leads to some sort of TV world that lets Akechi-kun turn up on screens at midnight… then if we go in there, won’t we appear as well? Our identities would be clearly visible to anyone who watches the show!”

“We don’t know for certain that he’s in there either,” Yusuke continued. “This is a unique development, but we do not know anything for certain.” He glanced toward Futaba. “I believe Okumura is a more solid lead.”

“Yeah!” Futaba agreed, and Morgana bristled.

“What?” he hissed. “I literally showed you another path into the Metaverse! His Shadow is in there!”

“If you’re so sure about it, then why didn’t you say anything the last time we saw him TV?” Ryuji pressed. “Ren would have told us if you’d said you think the Akechi on the TV is a Shadow.”

Morgana’s ears flattened, his fur beginning to stand on end with his frustration. “I only found out about it when you guys weren’t here!” he defended, and Ann frowned.

“Morgana, do you know for certain that this leads into the Metaverse?” Ann asked. “It couldn’t be… something else?”

“So now even you’re doubting me, Lady Ann?” he whispered, and shook himself before he faced Ren head-on. “You know I’m right, don’t you Joker? You know that Akechi’s in the TV!”

Ren looked back at him, glancing between the TV screen and Futaba’s laptop. It was possible that the TV did lead somewhere they had never been before, and the midnight performance he had seen did seem a lot more personal than some scripted thing the kidnapper had made him say… but then there was the matter of the kidnapper himself. The kidnapper had texted him, telling him he had Akechi and saying things that he wouldn’t necessarily know unless he was telling the truth, but he had given those weird specifications. There hadn’t been a foggy day since Ren had come to Tokyo, but there had been a series of mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns.

If the man who had texted him was the Black Mask, he could be holding Akechi in some weird part of the Metaverse only accessible from TV screens, hiding him from the Phantom Thieves. But while they didn’t know for certain that the TV was involved, they knew that someone on this side was. Someone on this side that Okumura’s Shadow may be able to identify, if they could get through his Palace in time.

His silence as he considered his options dragged too long, and hurt shone in Morgana’s face before anger chased it.

“So you don’t trust me either?” he hissed, hackles rising. “I find our biggest clue, but I’m still useless?”

“Morgana-” Ren began, but he was already shaking his head.

“No!” He glanced over his shoulder, toward the TV screen behind him. “You need proof that I’m right? I’ll give you proof.” He crouched, and in the split second before he moved Ren realised what he was about to do.

“Morgana, don’t!”

But he was too late, and Morgana had already leapt head-first into the TV screen.

Ren didn’t hesitate. He shot forward, almost knocking over the table and making Futaba scoop up her laptop to avoid it crashing on the floor, sticking his own arm into the TV and reaching for Morgana. His fingers tingled as they went through the screen, although he wasn’t sure if that was because of whatever was on other side or his mind telling him that he should react strangely to whatever was on the other side, but he felt nothing solid.

He could hear the other Thieves calling his name, but he couldn’t think about them. All he could think about was how Akechi might be in there because their changes of heart had led him closer to catching Black Mask, and how Morgana was in there because he hadn’t supported him enough.

He pulled his arm out and stuck his head in instead, ignoring the other Thieves’ startled yells.

Inside the TV was a thick yellow fog, obscuring most of what he could see, but he thought he could see something like spotlights shining in the distance. A studio? The studio that Akechi had been in? He tried to push himself in further as he strained his eyes to try to see any sign of Morgana. He couldn’t see the floor, let alone a cat, but he didn’t let that stop him.

“Morgana!” he shouted as loud as he could, surprising himself with the volume and with the tiny crack in his voice. “Akechi!”

There was no answering shout, and as he tried to wiggle his shoulders to make it around the edges of the screen and fit through he felt arms wrapping around his waist and yanking him backwards, out of the TV again. He stumbled back into whoever had grabbed him, almost crashing into the table again, and blinked in the abruptly clear and bright room, so different to the foggy world that he had just left.

“What the hell, man?” Ryuji shouted from behind him, finally letting him go. “You could have gotten stuck in there!”

“Did you see him?” Futaba asked, worry clear in her voice, and Ren shook his head.

“He disappeared,” he said, and Futaba sagged in the seat. “It was really foggy in there, I could barely see anything-”

“Foggy?” Makoto repeated, eyes widening. “Didn’t… didn’t the kidnapper say that he would kill Akechi when it’s foggy?”

Ren felt his stomach drop, and he opened his mouth soundlessly before Ann shook her head.

“He meant on this side, right? When it’s foggy on this side, not in there! We don’t know for sure that it’s not foggy all the time inside there!”

Ren tugged out his phone, scrolling down to the series of creepy messages from the kidnapper. He hadn’t messaged him again after the first time, but Ren couldn’t bring himself to delete the conversation in case somehow it could be helpful.

“Ren...?” Makoto asked, voice careful. “What are you doing?”

Messaging him first could be incredibly dangerous. The kidnapper might know who he is, but right now all the kidnapper knew him as was Akechi’s concerned friend. If he said anything to imply that he was more than that, that he was someone who knew about the other world, then he could guess that he was a Phantom Thief and ruin him.

But they didn’t have time to find a TV that they could all fit into and clear an infiltration route. They could try if they had to, but if they wasted time on this that they could be spending tracking down Okumura’s Shadow and making it talk...

**He’s still alive, right?**

**It’s not foggy here yet**

He sent the messages without hesitation, desperately hoping that the kidnapper hadn’t disposed of the phone he’d used to contact him. His hands were shaking a little, and as he tightened his grip on the phone to stop it Makoto stepped a little closer to him.

“Ren, please tell me you didn’t just text the kidnapper something incriminating.”

“He didn’t,” Futaba said softly. “He just asked if Akechi was still alive. If we’re too late, I’m sure Black Mask will let us know.”

“It won’t be too late,” Yusuke said firmly, but Ren still felt sick.

“Does anyone have a TV that would be big enough for us to fit in, if we have to do this today?” Ren asked, and Ann grimaced.

“There’s a big TV at my place,” she told them. “If we need to get into a TV, we can go through there.”

That solved that problem, but he didn’t want to immediately race over to Ann’s place if they didn’t have to. He felt reluctant to leave his room in case Morgana leapt out of the TV again.

His phone buzzed in his hand and he looked down at it immediately.

**If he was dead, you’d know about it.**

Not exactly comforting, but if he was going to kill him tonight then Ren was certain there would be some sort of taunt.

“I don’t think he’s going to do it tonight,” he said, and the other Thieves visibly sagged in relief. “I think it’s when the fog is on this side.” He glanced between them, trying not to show how his heart was still pounding and his hands were shaking with worry for both Morgana and Akechi. “We need to find out Okumura’s keywords, and head in as quickly as we can. We need to talk with his Shadow.”

The others nodded, but he could still see the trepidation on their faces.

“What are we going to do about Mona?” Ann asked, and Ren frowned. Makoto was right – they didn’t know what would be waiting for them on the other side of the screen, or if they’d appear on the Midnight Channel and immediately expose their identities to the public. If they couldn’t get answers from Okumura… “Shouldn’t we wait until he comes back before we go after Okumura…?”

Ren hesitated. They should wait for Morgana. They should all be there when he returned – there shouldn’t even be a possibility for him to come back to an empty room, his team having just left him to it. But wherever Akechi was, he’d been there for weeks. Maybe Morgana would come back with news, but maybe he’d come back with nothing, and they’d already taken too long to make any progress.

“...We can’t afford to waste more time,” he said, as much as it pained him to abandon Morgana. “We need to talk with Okumura’s Shadow before it’s too late.”

The others looked like they had half a mind to argue with him, and part of him wished that they would, but soon enough they nodded, deferring to his judgement.

“Whatever you say, leader,” Ryuji said, and it was decided. Ren just hoped that Morgana would come back sooner rather than later.

*

The world inside the TV was really weird. It had a different feel and a different scent to the Metaverse, and felt strangely artificial compared to the world that he knew – although Morgana wasn’t sure if it felt like that naturally or if it was being affected by its ‘ruler’. There wasn’t a clear exit either – when he had jumped in he had fallen a good few feet, even though he had landed neatly on his feet, and there wasn’t an obvious screen or door that he could jump through to get back out. That didn’t necessarily matter, though; so long as there weren’t any Shadows around and the air felt like it could shift, he was fairly sure that he could just will himself out of this place, like he could with the Metaverse. That did kinda explain how, if he really was in here, Akechi hadn’t managed to pull himself out.

Morgana could sense something in the distance that could be a person, someone who could very well be Akechi, but he could sense Shadows too. The strength of the Shadows varied, but they were definitely stronger than any he had faced alone. He’d gotten a lot stronger since he had been in Kamoshida’s castle, but ever since their ranks had swelled he’d been placed on the backlines as a healer instead of a fighter, and as much as he hated to think like that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take down a bunch of Shadows on his own.

He brushed off such a thought. Maybe the Shadows in here weren’t hostile – if Akechi was in here, then it was really unlikely that he hadn’t come across a Shadow in all this time. Maybe he was sticking close to his own Shadow, and that meant that he wasn’t at risk from the others? But wasn’t it dangerous for humans to spend time in close proximity with their Shadows?

Anyway, it didn’t matter. He needed to keep walking through this weird world and find whoever was in here, and if it was Akechi then he’d need to bring him out with him and show the Phantom Thieves just how great he was.

The spotlights in this world were a little unnerving, and it was annoying to have to walk all the way without being able to just turn into a car and have Joker or Queen drive him to their destination, but he was still buzzing with determination. This was his chance, and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

He wasn’t wandering too long before he came across what looked like an entrance hall, the spotlights aiming toward a large, open doorway, a red carpet leading up to a pair of steel double doors that were thrown open. The path that he had been walking down, the carpeted floor that had yawning chasms into nothingness on either side, was suddenly surrounded by plush chairs occupied by dark shadows, looking more like formless blobs than any actual Shadows. Above the double doors was a glowing neon sign labelling it as ‘STUDIO ONE’, and although it was nowhere near as large and gaudy as all of the Palaces he had come across with the Phantom Thieves, it still had the same sort of feeling.

But Morgana still couldn’t smell a Treasure.

_Maybe it’s some sort of thing that doesn’t have a Treasure?_ he wondered, and felt an ear twitch curiously before he pulled himself up tall, rested a paw on the cutlass at his waist, and began to stride through the studio doors. He was a master thief – even if there wasn’t an obvious Treasure, he’d plunder this studio and take anything it had to give.

He’d only stepped a few feet past the entrance when he saw something that he was sure was a Shadow dragging itself across the floor – an enormous blob that didn’t look even slightly human, unlike all of the others. It felt strong, so Morgana crept past it without engaging it like a true phantom, and breathed a little sigh of relief as he passed a corner.

It was a weird studio that he had set foot in, now that he was looking at it – while the outside had looked kinda like the studio that he had gone to with Ren and Lady Ann back in June, inside it looked more like the set of one of the drama films that he’d watched with Ren. There were still spotlights and boom mics hanging overhead, far too high for him to reach, but the walls looked like the off-white of a rented apartment, speckled with black mould in places. There were photographs across the walls, depicting a woman and a child without faces, but Morgana didn’t stop to get a closer look at them. Instead he kept walking, navigating the strange environment and waiting for anything to hint that he was heading in the right direction.

He awkwardly pushed open a big studio door, trying and failing to reach the push bar before realising that it would move if he just pushed against the whole thing, and emerged in a larger, round room. The walls had some posters on them now, and a closed window that showed the neon lights of shops outside.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of the boy standing in the middle of the room.

His hands were clasped neatly in front of him, despite the manacles around his wrists and the long chain between them, and the bruised and bloody face that smiled at him had a pair of unnaturally bright golden eyes set straight on him.

“I knew it!” Morgana cried, victorious. “You’re Akechi’s Shadow!”

The Shadow gave a short, sweeping bow, but never took his eyes off of Morgana. “Guilty as charged,” he said, his voice distorted in the telltale way of a Shadow. “But my, my, I never expected to have the Phantom Thieves themselves chasing me down so soon.” He finally glanced away from Morgana, gaze sweeping the area behind him. “Where’s Joker?”

Morgana pouted a little, ears twitching. “He’s not here. I’m here to-” He paused, suddenly realising that the Shadow had said ‘Joker’. How would he know the names of any of the Phantom Thieves? They hadn’t shared their codenames with anyone. “Wait-”

“Do I not deserve the full entourage?” the Shadow continued, smile falling away. “Have even the Phantom Thieves decided that I’m not worth pursuing, my heart not worth trying to change?”

Morgana looked at the insulted look on the Shadow’s face, utterly baffled.

“Why are _you_ the one to seek me out?” the Shadow continued, his eyes narrowing at Morgana. “The non-human Phantom Thief. The oh so knowledgable guide, presumably the one who told them all about how to change cognition without causing a mental shutdown.” He looked at him a little more closely, golden eyes assessing. “You _are_ the one with the knowledge, correct?”

The Shadow waited for him to answer, and Morgana took a moment to pick his jaw up from where it had fallen open in shock. How did Akechi know any of that? He couldn’t have known anything about the intricacies of their work or that world, not from anything they’d done in the real world. Sure, maybe they could have been a bit more careful, but they certainly hadn’t let anything like that slip-

Unless the Black Mask had been watching their infiltrations, and had overheard his explanations to Fox or Queen after they had joined.

“D-did the Black Mask tell you?” Morgana asked, voice trembling a little.

The Shadow’s answering smile was smug.

“Something like that. So tell me, Mona – why did you choose _him_?”

“Huh?”

“What exactly is so special about Joker?” the Shadow hissed, his voice suddenly dripping with contempt and frustration. “He isn’t the only Persona-user – he isn’t even the first. He isn’t even the only wildcard! So why? Why did you decided that _he_ should get a guide, and no one else?”

“I...”

Morgana was at a loss. He’d just found Joker by chance, it hadn’t been planned, he hadn’t _chosen_ him, and while he was certain he had never heard the phrase ‘wildcard’ before, something about the word felt _right_ , like a puzzle piece he hadn’t even known was missing had slotted perfectly into place.

“Are… are you saying the Black Mask has the same power as Joker?” he tried, and the Shadow scoffed.

“How unfortunate, that I get left with the dregs. Even Sakamoto would be able to piece this together.” He gave Morgana an incredibly unimpressed look. “Yes, that is what I’m saying. There is another who has the power to wield multiple Personas, and you left them to stumble in the dark, alone and lost, making their way through this world without a guide. Is it any wonder they went down the wrong path?” He shook his head, taking a deep breath although his rage was still palpable. “Although, I cannot say this isn’t fitting. A cursed child to the end, forsaken even by the gods and demons who provided the power in the first place.”

“I… I didn’t know,” Morgana said. There was too much information, too much to filter through, but all that was sticking was that somehow, there was a chance that he could have stopped the Black Mask before all of this began, and he had failed. “My memories before I met Joker...”

His memories. Could he have maybe tried to find the Black Mask, but lost his memories before he could? Is that how he lost his human form too?

_Akechi will know,_ he realised. The Shadow may exaggerate, but clearly Black Mask had said _something_ to Akechi. If he rescued the real Akechi, then he could give him every answer he needed.

“Does the real Akechi know who the Black Mask is?” he asked, and the Shadow raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” the Shadow said, eyeing him closely. “But why would the other me want to talk to you?”

Morgana faltered. “I-I’m here to rescue him-”

“You aren’t Joker. You aren’t special. He doesn’t want anything to do with you – you’re nothing to him. Although… no, that isn’t quite true.” Something in his gaze became sharper. “You are something to him.”

Black and white claws burst suddenly from his chest and Morgana leapt backward with a startled yowl, summoning Zorro to defend him as they shot forward, reaching, grasping, desperate and grotesque. Akechi’s Shadow didn’t bat an eye, but a half-smile cracked his face.

“You’re a target,” he finished, and the clawed arms lunged.

“Garula!” Morgana shouted desperately, and Zorro’s sword slashed the air as winds whipped around them, trying to throw the black and white striped arms off their course, but they didn’t even slow.

Two clawed hands reached for him and Morgana darted out of their range, getting his Persona between himself and the Shadow. The Shadow seemed only amused by his resistance, stepping forward leisurely as Morgana began to retreat. Maybe the arms were just a distraction, maybe he had to aim for the thing controlling them-

“Miracle Punch!” Morgana yelled, and Zorro lunged straight for the Shadow.

It hit, but wasn’t enough to knock him down – it wasn’t even enough to break his stride.

“Is this the power of the Phantom Thieves?” he mocked.

The claws swiped again, but this time one of them hit. It hit hard – as hard as a Palace Ruler, hard as that charged attack from Futaba’s cognition of her mother, and Morgana was almost knocked over the side of the walkway and into the nothingness beneath. He struggled to catch his breath, but the arms were reaching for him again and he needed to keep moving. Maybe if he left the studio it wouldn’t have as much power, maybe he was bound to the location and Morgana would be able to escape…

As he fled he reached for his little pack of infiltration tools, the pack that he hadn’t had a chance to use since Joker had taken over tool crafting, and frantically began to search for something he could use. His paw touched a smoke bomb, and without hesitation he tossed it behind him, hiding his trail. He didn’t even have time to breathe a sigh of relief before the Shadow spoke.

“I can still see you, Mona,” he taunted, and Morgana kept searching, his paws slipping as the tools slid out of his grasp. “You can’t hide anything from me!”

His paw wrapped around a Goho-M, and he crushed it as quickly as he could. A bright white light filled his vision and he heard the Shadow curse just before the studio faded and he was once again at the red carpet entrance.

It took him a moment to bring himself to a stop, but once he did he collapsed against the floor, panting and trembling with the force of his pounding heart. He cast a quick Diarama on himself, patching up the wounds from just one swipe of those unnatural claws that had emerged from the Shadow, and glanced back at the studio behind him. If the Shadow had found him so quickly he had no doubt that it would be lurking at the beginning of the ‘Palace’, pacing the length of the entrance and waiting for him to step back in.

Morgana was certain he wouldn’t be able to take it if he was attacked again. He doubted that he’d be able to sneak past it either, not when the Palace was little more than a series of connected walkways. There were no high places for him to hide in, no corners to skirt around – just vulnerable, open space.

‘You aren’t Joker’ was what the Shadow had said to him. Would he only fight fair if Joker was there? If any of the other Thieves tried to make an entrance would they also be attacked?

He stared at the open doorway with helpless frustration. He’d made it all the way in here, he’d found Akechi’s Shadow, and now he was falling at the first hurdle? Would he have to slink back to the others and beg for their help, proving just how useless he was after all?

_No,_ he told himself, straightening from where he had flopped, exhausted, on the floor. He’d retreat for now and reassess the situation and find a way forward on his own. He didn’t need anyone else, he could figure it all out on his own. He was still the master phantom thief – all of the others were just sidekicks. Even Joker, even if Akechi’s Shadow thought differently. He was the hero, and he’d prove it to everyone, no matter what.

But for now, he would have to retreat. He couldn’t stay here, not when the Shadow could attack him at any point.

He tucked his cutlass away, and focused closely on the part of him that let him exit the Metaverse. He felt the world shift around him, and black and white spirals shone on the back of his eyelids as he was suddenly pulled forward, like he was being sucked through an invisible tube. His eyes flew open as he shot forward, and he hopped out of the other world.

He had expected to arrive back in Leblanc, but the room around him was enormous and utterly unfamiliar. His ears went back as he looked around himself, taking in large windows and expensive-looking vases filled with pristine flowers standing inside them, as well as immaculately clean carpet and fancy leather couches. He couldn’t see a way out immediately either, but as he searched for some sign of where he was he heard a soft gasp and spun toward it.

There was a girl standing in a doorway that he hadn’t seen, with fluffy, curly brown hair and a hand raised delicately to her mouth as she looked at him. He didn’t recognise her, but as he stared back he saw her gaze soften and a gentle smile grace her face.

“How did you get in here, Mr Kitty?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgana still has access to Zorro because (I'm fairly sure) Morgana didn't have an awakening and his Persona is innate, so it can't be separated. That's my justification, anyway :P
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks for reading! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Okumuras receive some visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings:  
> This chapter contains assault, brief attempted sexual assault, and animal abuse (think Haru's fiance's introduction, but a bit worse).

Beyond the stairs that led deeper into the studio, the environment had changed again. Goro and Teddie were no longer walking through the research lab, but instead had stepped into a painfully familiar apartment. 

The pale cream walls were the same, although the photographs on the walls were a new addition – he remembered that there had been very few photographs of him and his mother together, and they certainly weren’t shown openly on the walls where his mother’s clients could potentially see them. With the glasses Teddie had given him he could just see that the majority of the photographs were just of him and his mother in the apartment together, and he wondered if these were his memories, converted into snapshots frozen in time. 

Breaking up the room was the same enormous screen that had been at the foot of every staircase in this palace, and the chairs sitting in front of the screen blocking their path were a pair of old couches this time, the faux leather fraying and torn but prettied up with a pair of plush, soft pink cushions. 

Goro couldn’t quite stop himself from pausing in front of them and running his fingertips over the fabric, nostalgia consuming him. They were exactly as soft as he remembered, and as he touched it he could swear that he smelled the bold, floral scents of his mother’s usual perfume lingering on the air. 

He had a feeling he knew what would be shown to him on the screen, but he didn’t know if he was ready to see it. His own recollection was a well-worn, familiar thing, something that he turned back to when he was alone to remind him of better times, of why he was fighting, but they were still the rose-tinted memories of a child. He knew that beneath the surface level shine of his memories, there might be less pleasant things that he had purposefully forgotten. 

But if this was what he thought it was, it meant that he could see her again. 

“We’re almost out of here!” Teddie chirped, making his way over to one of the couches – both of the couches were exactly the same, the same single couch that had been in their apartment replicated – and hopping onto it. Something about the motion made anger flare inside him, and part of him wanted to scream at Teddie to get off of his couch and not to look at the screen, to not desecrate his memories with his presence, before he remembered that the ‘bear’ had already been through here once before, and had likely already seen whatever this screen had to show. 

“...Yes,” Goro said quietly, and he slowly settled down on his own couch. It felt different, smaller than he was used to now that he didn’t have the body of a child. His gaze flickered over to the screen and anticipation thrummed through his veins, his hands gripping the edges of the couch beneath him. 

The screen cleared, but it wasn’t his mother’s face that he saw there. Instead the scene that greeted him wasn’t even in the apartment, but instead was a distantly familiar car on a distantly familiar road, a man standing outside the vehicle with a phone held to his ear. The camera was in the interior of the car, so only the man’s back was visible, but Goro didn’t recognise his clothes or his posture. He did, however, recognise the boy in the back of the car as himself. 

This Goro Akechi was only slightly younger than the one on the previous screen, his hair slightly longer and his clothes rumpled and slightly too small. His eyes were wide and confused as he stared out of the car window, the glass wound down ever so slightly so that the man’s words filtered back into the car, despite his efforts to avoid being listened in on. 

“Suicide?” the man was saying, and while the word was unfamiliar to the boy in the back of the car, it wouldn’t be for long. “They’re sure it wasn’t accidental?”

There was silence for a moment as the unknown person on the end of the phone responded. The man let out a harsh sigh, rubbing at his jaw. 

“Yeah… no, that doesn’t sound accidental. Shit, what a mess. They’re gonna have real trouble renting that apartment after that. Any next of kin for the kid?” Another beat of silence. “Seriously? No one’s come forward to take him at all?” Another beat of silence, and the man shook his head. “Poor kid’s got no chance. Absent father, no family wanting him, dead mother with nothing to her name to leave for him… he’d have had better luck if she’d just taken him with her.”

“You’re better off dead,” his Shadow’s voice whispered insidiously from all around him, like Goro was completely incapable of picking up the obvious. “But you’re not the one in the ground.”

The man sighed a few more times before he hung up, turning back toward the car. He opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat, not bothering to turn and look at the child in the back. “Sorry about that, Goro-kun. We’ll get you to the group home soon.”

“I want to go home,” the younger Goro Akechi said from the backseat, and the man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“I know you do, but you can’t go back there alone. You-”

“Why isn’t mom there?”

He already knew the answer. He’d heard the man say that she was dead, but there was still a tiny part of him that hoped that he was talking about someone else’s mother. That back in the apartment, before they had led him through the door, she had just been asleep. 

“She’s…” the man faltered – clearly he was used to just being a chauffeur and hadn’t expected to be the one fielding such questions. “She’s not here anymore. She’s… she’s in a better place.”

The beginning of a lifetime of meaningless statements, euphemisms for death instead of just saying the words. But because it was merely the beginning, the child in the back didn’t quite understand. 

“She said we’d never be apart,” he whispered. “She promised that she’d never leave me, that we’d always be together.”

The man didn’t answer, probably trying to figure out how best to comfort a child that he wouldn’t even look at, but that silence spoke volumes. 

“She lied,” his Shadow answered for him. “She didn’t love you enough to stay.” 

The screen mercifully went black, but already the hope that had begun to fill his chest at the thought of seeing his mother again had been replaced by ugly black sludge, choking his lungs. How was _this_ supposed to be helping him accept himself? How was rubbing in his face how pathetic and unlovable he was going to get his Personas back? 

“Grr-o,” Teddie said again, that frustrating constant at his side, and Goro wished that this bear had never found him, had never set foot inside his head and seen things he had no right whatsoever to see. 

“Two more floors,” Goro stated, and was horrified to realise that his voice was thick and stilted, weakness creeping through. He forced himself to harden his tone. “Two more floors and you get me out of here.” 

Teddie was silent as the screen retreated into the floor, but after he seemed to take a moment to collect himself he looked at Goro with determination. 

“That’s right. We’re almost there.”

Goro tried not to so much as glance at the fake photographs on the walls, memories of happier times ready to be tainted with the knowledge that whatever fleeting happiness he could give her wasn’t enough. That even when he was the most genuine version of himself he had ever been, even when he wanted nothing more than to make his mother smile and his thoughts had never been haunted by blood and revenge, he still hadn’t been good enough. 

“Let’s go,” he said, and he kept walking. Two more floors, and he’d be free. 

*

Futaba already had Okumura’s keywords, so as soon as the Phantom Thieves made it to Big Bang Burger’s Corporate HQ the world fell away and the vastness of outer space replaced it. It was a lone space station surrounded by a sea of stars, a sci fi dream that was so much more vast and intricate than any of the other Palaces that they had infiltrated, but Joker didn’t spare a moment to admire the scenery. They had a job to do, and the more progress they made right away, the better. 

With Ann, Makoto and Ryuji at his side and Yusuke left to both bring up the rear and sketch the solar system just visible through the large windows around their entry point, Ren began the exploration. A quick use of the elevator led them deep into the bowels of the space station, grey walls and control panels inlaid with pale blue lights making up the long halls, decorated with holograms scattered sparsely around the space. There wasn’t much room to hide, but the walkways that lay in front of them were surprisingly bare of enemies, even if they could see various robot cognitions milling around beneath them. 

“What’s the plan, leader?” Ryuji asked from behind him, absently tapping his pipe against his leg. 

“We draw out Okumura’s Shadow,” Ren stated, eyes darting across each of the robots as he tried to work out which ones may be senior enough for the big boss to come and investigate if they mysteriously disappeared. The lanky red ones seemed like a good bet, but if there was a chance there were others above them… “Then we ask him some questions.” 

“He may be unwilling to talk to us,” Makoto pointed out, hand raising to her chin. “It would be unwise to try to take on a Palace ruler so early on.”

“But Shadows love to talk about themselves,” Ann reminded her. “It’s worth a shot.”

They entered a room with a giant hologram of a UFO shaped like a burger, and were just about to pass through into the next section of the Palace when the open doorway before them slammed shut. ‘ACCESS DENIED’ was written in bright red letters across the top of the doorway, and the now-closed door was sealed tight, without any gaps for the thieves to stick a weapon into to try to prise it open. 

Ryuji threw himself against it anyway, trying to brute force it, while Ren stared at the door with a mixture of concern and frustration. This couldn’t be happening, they’d only been in here for five minutes-

“How infuriating, to be stopped so soon,” Yusuke mused, crossing his arms, and Ren continued to stare at the door. 

“Is there a way around it?” he asked Futaba without looking at her, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the soft green light of Necronomicon’s consoles. 

“Not that I can see,” she admitted, and Ren frowned. “There aren’t any vents or ways around, but this is the best path forward.” She glanced up from the shining green holograms in front of her, hands hovering in the air. “We’ll have to do something to open the doors.”

“If we do something in the real world then the doors should open, right?” Ann said. “I don’t think we’ll be able to just go up to Okumura though...”

“We’re not leaving so soon,” Ren stated, interrupting her. The other thieves looked to him, while he clenched his hands into fists so tight that the red leather of his gloves began to creak. He refused to just leave here with nothing, wasting a day when they had no time. “If we can’t go to him, we’ll bring him to us.”

The others shared an alarmed glance. 

“Joker,” Makoto began slowly, “I don’t think that’s wise so soon-”

“The cognitive workers were on a lower floor,” he continued, spinning on his heel and walking back the way he came, back toward the walkways they had passed to get in here. “If we make enough of a scene, then the boss will come running.”

“A-aren’t we supposed to be thieves?” Futaba asked, looking between him and Makoto for guidance. “Like, being sneaky and hiding, not just jumping right into danger?”

“We are,” Yusuke agreed. “Joker, please reconsider such a reckless action-”

“I said when we came in here we were drawing him out.” He drew his gun as he made it to the walkway, aiming at the lanky red robot on the floor below. “You agreed to the plan.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think you meant right away!” Makoto sounded flustered, but Ren barely paid her any heed. He refused to waste more time, or pass up an opportunity to help his friend when he had already failed so many times. “Joker, wait!”

He fired, and the electric bullet collided with the robot. The workers all immediately jumped to attention as their superior fell, looking around themselves for the intruder, and Ren didn’t keep them waiting. He effortlessly vaulted the glass barrier of the walkway, landing on his feet on the lower floor in a swirl of his coattails. 

“Intruder alert!” one of the robots screeched in a metallic voice, and Joker spun his gun before drawing his knife as well. He could hear the other thieves scrambling to join him, and he lifted his chin a notch as he aimed his pistol at each of the cognitions. 

“Where’s the CEO?” he asked, voice nothing but calm even as the cognitions ran around in circles. “I have some questions about the Black Mask.”

“Our leader has no time to waste on intruders!” 

“Shame.” He fired again, knocking down another robot. “I’m going to dismantle every last one of you until he shows up.” 

Ryuji, Ann and Makoto flanked him, brandishing their weapons in support even if he could still feel that they weren’t happy to do this. That hardly mattered now, though – he could apologise to them later, once they had the information they needed. 

The room he had hopped into was bathed in red light as a loud klaxon began to blare, the security system finally making itself known as the cognitive workers rushed forward to defend their workplace against the intruders. As exhausted and overworked as the cognitions were, they went down easily against the combined might of the Phantom Thieves; but whenever one fell, another rose up to take its place, and none of them had anything worthwhile to say.

“The security level is going crazy!” Futaba shouted as more robots rushed forward. “If this keeps up then they’re going to kick us out of here!”

Ren ground his teeth together, his grip tightening marginally on the knife. A different robot had risen to the challenge, a large, wide one wearing a black suit, flanked by a pair of tall green ones, and he glared at them all. 

“The CEO hired Black Mask to kidnap Akechi, didn’t he?” he demanded, and the black-suited robot stood a little straighter. 

“Our leader is above your petty questions!” it screeched. “Long may he reign over Okumura Foods!”

“Joker, they aren’t going to answer you,” Makoto said from behind him, even as he summoned Thunderbird to try to knock it down. “Okumura isn’t coming. We need to retreat and try to open the door in the real world.”

“One more try,” Ren growled, ripping his mask off of his face. Futaba let out a quiet noise of distress, and he made a mental note to apologise to her and explain himself later. Thunderbird targeted the cognition, electricity zapping across it, and he glared at the robot. “You have one last chance. Did your boss hire the Black Mask to kidnap Goro Akechi?” 

“Our leader is faultless!” the robot announced. “We will all rather die than help Thieves who seek his downfall!”

Ren attacked, the other immediately supporting the assault, and so began a gruelling battle against an opponent that was so much stronger than the others, especially considering the veritable army of cognitions they had already cut through. 

Almost as soon as the robot broke down Makoto seized Ren’s arm, tugging him back with surprising force. Even beneath the large mask taking up most of her face she looked pale, her eyes a little too wide. 

“We need to get out of here now,” she told him, and he set his jaw as the blazing red light continued to pass over both of their faces. “Before even more security comes.”

He had half a mind to argue, but at the look in Makoto’s eyes, the flicker of something painfully like fear, stopped him in his tracks. They were supposed to be a team – even though they deferred to his opinion, he needed to take theirs into account. As frustrating as it was to admit, it was likely she was right, and they wouldn’t get anything else from this.

“Okay,” he said, drawing out the grappling hook that would get him back onto the walkway above and back to the entrance of the Palace. He could practically feel his team’s collective sigh of relief, and once they made it back to the entrance, away from the cognitions, they all turned to him with varying levels of concern. He drew himself up taller and met all of their eyes, fighting the urge to shrink back and away at their obvious disapproval now that the fury and adrenaline was beginning to wear off. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know that was reckless.”

“I know you’re worried about him, dude,” Ryuji said, kicking the ground and eyeing the elevator they’d come back up in. “But that was a little crazy.”

“What do we do now?” Yusuke asked, changing the subject as he folded his arms. “We have to alter Okumura’s cognition to let us through that door, correct?” 

“How can we change the cognition of the CEO?” Ann asked, worry evident on her voice. “We won’t be able to meet him face to face like with Futaba and Madarame...” 

“I can hack the computers in the Corporate HQ,” Futaba suggested. “Get them to say ‘the Phantom Thieves can get into anywhere!’ Or something like that.”

“...That’s probably the best we can manage, for now,” Makoto said, frowning. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll have to think of something else.”

“Mona might be back now anyway!” Futaba reminded them. “He could have found out some trick so we can just skip this boss!”

Ren nodded. One of them had to have a breakthrough. Something had to work.

*

The girl’s name was Haru, and she didn’t seem bothered at all by a person who looked like a cat having broken into her house. In fact, she seemed absolutely delighted by it. 

“Come and see my plants, Mr Kitty!” she insisted, holding him gently as she carried him over to the little rooftop garden outside her enormous bedroom. There was an open greenhouse, surrounded by large sealed bags of soil and compost, populated with small tomato plants boasting bright red fruit that nearly pulled down the little stems they were attached to. 

“They aren’t much, but I’m very proud of them,” Haru continued, putting him down and patting his head before scooping up a lilac watering can set beside the entrance. “They’re doing so well, and so are the ones on the school rooftop too! My teacher very kindly let me go into the school to maintain them over summer, which was an enormous relief – I was so scared that I’d come back after summer break and they’d all have withered away, especially with the lack of rain we’ve had over the last few weeks.”

Her hands stilled from where she had been tipping the watering can, and her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. 

“I feel terrible bemoaning the lack of rain,” she mused, drumming perfectly manicured nails against the metal of the can. “Considering what poor Akechi-kun has been going through.” 

Morgana’s ears twitched from where he sat beside the tomato plants, remembering the Shadow that had been too strong for him to defeat on his own. 

“I’ll get him out,” he assured her, but all she did was curl her lips into a small smile and reach down to pat his head again. 

“You’re a vocal little thing, aren’t you?” she mused. “But you’re always so quiet when you’re with Amamiya-kun.” Morgana looked up sharply at that, and Haru gave a small, almost wistful smile. “I’ll bring you to school with me on Monday,” she told him, “and then you can go back home.”

Morgana pulled a face – he wasn’t sure if he was ready to head back so soon, not when they all so obviously thought he was useless and he hadn’t gotten enough information to prove them wrong. Somehow Haru managed to pick up on his change in demeanour, and she put down the watering can and crouched down in front of him. 

“I wish you could stay with me too, but you’re Amamiya-kun’s cat, not mine.”

“I’m not a cat!” Morgana yowled, fur bristling with his offence, and Haru held up her hands. 

“Oh no, of course you’re not his cat!” she corrected, waving her hands as he began to calm down. “You don’t belong to anyone – you’re your own person, you belong to no one but yourself.” Her smile faltered, and her right hand began to tug absently on the third finger of her left. “I… I wish that I could say the same about myself.”

Morgana frowned, wondering what she meant by that, when there was a sudden shout from somewhere outside the greenhouse, back in the house. Haru tensed immediately at the noise.

“Haru! Where are you?”

“I’ll be right there, father!” she called back, glancing between Morgana and the door. She bit her lower lip and cupped his face gently in her hands, trying to meet his gaze. “You stay here, okay Mr Kitty? Father won’t like it if he sees you here – I’ll bring you some food once he’s gone to his meeting, okay? Just be careful and don’t jump up anywhere, we’re pretty high up.” 

That didn’t sound like a terrible deal, so he gave her a nod and she scratched under his chin before she hurried out of the greenhouse and back into the main house.

Morgana gave her a moment, watching as she tugged the sliding glass door over but didn’t close it completely, before he trotted over to the door and pushed it a little further open, sliding back into the house. He was a Phantom Thief after all – he doubted that Haru or her father would be able to spot him if he didn’t want them to. He padded over the plush cream carpet of her bedroom floor before nudging the slightly ajar door open with his head, following the sound of Haru’s footsteps deeper into unfamiliar terrain. She seemed to be heading back toward the living room that he had emerged from the TV world in, and as he approached the room he lingered in the doorway, taking in the scene before him. 

Haru was there, but she was surrounded by three adults who were all standing around with serious expressions. He recognised one of the adults as the older Niijima sister, the prosecutor who was investigating the Phantom Thieves, but the two men with her were strangers. One was a stern-looking older man who stood near Haru, dressed in an immaculate business suit, and the other was a slightly younger man with unkempt dark hair and a crooked red tie. Haru had a tray in her hands with four teacups perched on it, and Niijima and the strange man thanked her and took one. 

“I don’t understand,” the man near Haru said, and the harsh tone immediately placed him as the man who had called Haru when she’d been in the greenhouse – the man who was likely her father. “So you aren’t here regarding the libel splashed across that wretched ‘Phantom Site’, accusing me of everything under the sun?” 

“We will certainly be looking into that on your behalf,” Niijima told him, her colleague nodding along in agreement, “but today we were here to discuss a strange pattern in your bank account.”

Haru paused, her eyes darting over to her father with a confused and vaguely alarmed expression, while her father’s eyes narrowed. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked sharply. “I pay all of my taxes and claim all my expenses – every single thing I do is well above board. If you are concerned about me spending money that I have earned – earned _fairly_ , whatever the media degenerates or those disgraceful ‘thieves’ have to say about it – then I am well within my right to spend my money on whatever I wish.”

“We are not accusing you of anything,” Niijima stated, not quite managing a placating tone. “We just want to clear up some unusually timed expenditure.”

“Ask me, then,” the man said with a sneer on his face, waving his hand dismissively. “Sit down, let us hear what stupidity the Tokyo police have come up with.”

Niijima’s expression didn’t so much as twitch at that, but she and her colleague both sat on an expensive looking couch and she drew out a small notebook. Haru and her father sat on another couch near to them, Haru sitting perfectly straight with her hands folded neatly in her lap. 

“In mid July, a large amount of money was moved out of your account,” Niijima stated, her pen pointing at part of her page. “The exact same amount was also moved in May and August.”

“I have been expanding my fast food empire over the past few months,” he answered, voice curt. “Such things don’t come cheap.”

“I recognise that,” Niijima said. “But it is the timings of these payments that we want to ask you about.” She glanced up from her page. “A day before each of these payments was made, separate employees from your rival fast food chains suffered psychotic breakdowns in their places of work. Surely you recall the man who suddenly stripped naked in Wild Duck Burger, causing their stock market value to plummet?”

“I don’t recall,” Haru’s father stated. “While I keep a general eye on my competitors, I don’t keep track of every little scandal. It seems the industry is riddled with them nowadays.” He adjusted his glasses so that he could glare at Niijima more efficiently. “What exactly are you implying by this? Are you suggesting that I bribed my rival’s employees to, what? Fake a mental breakdown in their place of work to bring their companies into disrepute? Did these people miraculously recover and then suddenly have a lot more money to spend, by any chance?” 

Niijima pursed her lips, but didn’t break eye contact. “I do not believe that you paid the individuals involved, Okumura-san.”

“Then stop wasting my time and tell me what you _are_ accusing me of. As I mentioned when you first turned up on my doorstep, I have an important meeting within the hour. Perhaps I may even need to make another payment afterwards, if another unexpected cost rears its head.”

“We have received information claiming that certain individuals have effectively been commissioning psychotic breakdowns,” Niijima stated. Haru stiffened and Morgana gasped, his tail lashing. She’d said Okumura, that was the guy Futaba had found out about from Niijima’s data… did that mean he was now looking right at the culprit of the psychotic breakdowns? Or, if he wasn’t the culprit, did he know who the culprit was?

“Are you one of those individuals, Okumura-san?” Niijima finished, staring at the man unflinchingly. 

Haru’s gaze darted to her father, her face impassive but her eyes wide with shock and confusion, and the man didn’t so much as glance at her as he barked a laugh. 

“What absolute nonsense! Ordering a psychotic breakdown, as one would order a burger? What exactly do you think psychotic breakdowns _are_? You think I could pay someone to reach inside some stranger’s head and make them strip off in a restaurant? Do you even hear yourself?” He shook his head. “And here I thought the police department couldn’t sink further. You place a woman in charge of an investigation, and suddenly _magic_ is involved.” His lips curled into a sneer. “Maybe you should leave the investigation in more capable hands and go find a husband, Niijima-san, as your grasp on reality is tenuous at best.” He stood up abruptly. “Your claims are both baseless and absurd. We’re done here. See yourselves out – I have a meeting to attend.”

“So you deny any involvement?” Niijima continued as Okumura turned away, and the man scoffed. 

“Of course I do. Now I would appreciate it if you would leave me and my home.”

Niijima seemed to hesitate a moment, but eventually she tucked away her notebook and withdrew the same small business card that she had left with Ren. She left it on the little coffee table, beside her cup of tea, and stood. 

“Thank you for your time,” she said with a bow, and her and her colleague left. 

Once they were out of earshot Haru turned to the man. “Father,” she began.

“Don’t start, Haru,” he barked, and she flinched. “This entire conversation has been an enormous waste of time that I do not wish to think on further. All you need concern yourself with is how to be a good wife to Sugimura-kun.”

Haru kept her eyes downcast, nodding silently, and her father breathed a heavy sigh. “This is such a farce,” he muttered under his breath, striding away. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

She nodded again and he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Haru let out a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping, and now that the coast was clear Morgana slipped out of the room and moved closer to her. She noticed him almost immediately, a soft, fragile smile making its way across her face as she crouched down to see him better. 

“I’m sorry, were you lonely out there?” she asked, reaching out a gentle hand and stroking the side of his face. “It’s okay. Father’s going to be away for a little while, so we can keep each other company, can’t we?”

Morgana leaned into the touch, trying to look at her seriously. 

“He isn’t very nice to you,” he said, and she hummed curiously before she gasped. 

“Oh, I promised you some food didn’t I? Don’t worry – I’ll ask the staff if they have any fish for you in the kitchen.”

He brightened a little at that. “Sushi!” he suggested, and purred a little at the trill of her laugh at what she must have only heard as an enthusiastic meow. 

She stood up, but only made it a few steps before there was an abrupt knock on the door that the officers had left through and the smile fell off of her face, tension snapping back into her spine. The door creaked open, and standing in the doorway was the officer who had come in with Niijima, an apologetic half-smile set in his face. 

“Hey there,” he said, giving a short wave. “Sorry about this – I think my wallet fell out on your couch.”

“Oh-” Haru immediately turned toward the couch he had been sitting on, and Morgana tried to blend into the shadows. “Our apologies, Adachi-san.”

“Oh hey, you remembered my name?” the officer sounded surprised as he stepped into the room, his smile widening. “I’m flattered.”

“Um,” Haru started, seeming not to know how to respond to that, and ‘Adachi’ stepped further into the room, heading back toward the couch. 

“Has your dad gone to his meeting?” he asked without looking at her, and Haru cut a glance toward Morgana as she stepped a little closer to the officer, still maintaining a respectable distance. 

“He has, yes,” Haru replied. “He’s a very busy man.”

“I can imagine,” he said with a half-laugh, and turned just as he was getting close to the couch. “Have to say, though – I’m kinda glad that he’s not here right now.” As Haru’s brow furrowed in confusion, the man’s smile turned somewhat lecherous. “I wanted to let you know, you’re really cute.”

Morgana’s ears went flat against his skull as Haru froze, confusion and unease playing on her face. 

“Um,” she said, glancing away and playing with her hair nervously. “Thank you.”

“How old are you?” he pressed, stepping a little closer to her. “Sixteen? Eighteen?”

“Seventeen,” she mumbled, and he gave an appreciative hum.

“Wow. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“A fiance, actually,” she answered quietly, and he blinked at her in surprise. 

“Huh, seriously? Damn, people are chaining each other down pretty quick nowadays.” His eyes raked across her body. “I bet your saving it for marriage, aren’t you?”

“E-excuse me?”

“You know he’d probably be happier with you if you had some experience, though. Blushing virgins are only good if they still know what they’re doing, otherwise we have to do all the work.” He smiled. “I could show you how its done.”

Morgana saw the moment when her discomfort shifted to fear, but she shuttered her expression quickly enough and drew herself taller. 

“I would appreciate it if you left now,” she said, voice tight.

“Aw, don’t be like that. I haven’t found my wallet yet.”

“Then find it and go,” she stated, trying to force steel into her voice, but as he took a step closer to her she stumbled a step back, giving ground that he was all too eager to take. 

“I see how it is,” he abruptly growled, stepping closer and closer. “A rich bitch like you takes one look at me and decides that I’m not worth your time. That I’m just some loser-”

Morgana shot forward out of his hiding place, standing between the man and Haru. He bared his teeth and raised his hackles, hissing at him in the most animalistic way he could, and the man actually stopped in his tracks to blink at his sudden appearance. 

“Is this the only bodyguard a CEO can afford?” he mused, tilting his head as he sneered down at Morgana. “Some mangy cat?”

“Not a cat!” he snarled back. “Stay away from her!” 

The man laughed, trying to step around him, and Morgana leapt for him, sinking his teeth in the little stripe of skin between his shoe and his trouser leg. His laugh turned into a howl and Morgana bit harder, holding on for dear life. 

_Call for help,_ he willed Haru, but soon enough he was being shaken viciously and he lost his grip. He let go, spitting out some of the blood on the pristine carpet, but before he could move out of the way a boot collided with his ribs and he was launched halfway across the room. 

“Kitty!” Haru cried, and as he blinked open eyes that had screwed shut with pain he saw the man grab her arm, yanking her toward him with force. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, his knuckles white as he tightened his grip. “I’m your guest, but you’re not being very accommodating now, are you? Daddy would be so disappointed.”

“Please let go of me,” she whimpered, trying in vain to yank her arm free. “H-he’s hurt, please-”

“Haru,” Morgana whispered, pushing himself up on shaky paws. His ribs hurt so much, it hurt to breathe – he needed to go to the Metaverse, Zorro could heal him, but Haru needed him. She was in danger, he was a Phantom Thief, he needed to help-

“You think you can call the shots?” He shook her, and even from across the room Morgana could see fearful tears gathering in her eyes. “You think you can give _me_ orders? I’m not one of your little servants you can boss around!” The hand not holding her arm reached down, toward the end of her blouse, toward her skirt-

“Leave her alone!” Morgana shouted, launching himself toward the man at the same time that Haru allowed herself to be pulled and drove her bare knee upward, slamming it into his crotch. As he barked in pain, managing to let go of her as his hands instinctively moved to protect himself, Morgana jumped up and bit hard into his hand, driving his fangs into the soft webbing between his thumb and forefinger. The man cursed again as Haru staggered away, a small sob bursting from her, but he wasted no time in driving the fingers of the hand Morgana wasn’t holding onto into the hinges of his jaw, squeezing painfully as he tried to pry him loose. 

“Fucking cat,” he snarled, and gave up on trying to pull him off and just hit him. The gasp of pain made Morgana’s grip loosen, and the man took that as an invitation to throw him against the wall. He sunk to the floor, watching as blood dripped from the deep punctures on the man’s hand, and as the man looked up he saw Haru with a phone in her hands, finally trying to call for help. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he sneered. “Calling the police? _I am the police!”_

He lurched across the room, and Haru tried to run, but as soon as she turned her back to him his uninjured hand was snarled in her hair, yanking her back. She was shouting, pleading, and he was shaking his head like all of this was an inconvenience.

“Why did you have to be such a pain?” he muttered, and Morgana tried to pull himself up again. The world was spinning, all he could taste was blood, but he had to get up. He had to get up. “I was just going to have a little fun, but now I can’t leave you out here.”

“Let go!” she was screaming, and he clamped his injured hand over her mouth. He looked around, searching for something, until his gaze landed on the large flatscreen TV that Morgana had jumped out of what felt like days ago. 

“Ah,” he said quietly. “That’ll do.” He started dragging Haru toward it, and Morgana’s heart dropped further. Did he know about the other world? “Good news, bitch. You’re going to have some company while you die.” She was dragging her feet, trying to dislodge him and bite his hand, but she was so much smaller than the fully grown man pulling her around. Morgana tried to get up again and managed to stand on shaky legs, but he almost fell back down when he tried to take a step. “Say hi to Akechi for me,” he practically purred in her ear, and Morgana’s jaw fell open as he shoved her head into the TV screen, and then the rest of her. 

This guy was Black Mask. The killer was a police officer, but he didn’t know that Morgana wasn’t a cat. He didn’t know that he could jump into the TV, heal them both and pull her out – he knew where to leave to come out of this TV, it would all work out, he could save her-

He made it a few steps toward the TV when the man stopped in front of him, casting a dark shadow over his body. 

“And then there’s you,” he said, reaching down and roughly grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, dangling him just out of striking distance. “Little guard cat, probably giving me rabies.” Morgana bared his teeth again, and the man bared his own teeth back. “I could throw you right in with her. Watch the TV world kill a cat.” Morgana stayed silent, waiting for him to do just that, and the man paused. “But I don’t think it would work. No cat’s gonna have a TV show.” He swung him away from the TV, and Morgana felt abruptly cold. “I’ll have to do something else.”

He walked away from the TV, and Morgana tried to thrash out of his grasp, despite the pain movement caused. Whatever he was planning, it couldn’t be good. 

“Stupid little thing just got out,” he muttered to himself. “Too sheltered and dumb to realise that things can be dangerous.”

He was walking toward an open window. 

“No,” Morgana said, dread running through his veins, trying in vain to pull himself out of his grip. “No, no you can’t-”

Rain was beginning to tap against the glass, painting the Tokyo skyline in grey, and from where Morgana was being held he could see just how high up they were. 

“Bye, stupid cat,” he said cheerfully, pushing open the window a little further and shoving Morgana through the gap. “Try to land on your feet.”

For a moment he dangled there, rain tapping his nose and dizzying nothingness stretched out beneath him, and then the man let go of him and he plummeted. It was like when he and the Thieves had been escaping from Kaneshiro’s bank – except he wasn’t a car, there weren’t the cushioning effects of cognition, there was nothing but himself and the very distant pavement, and he was already hurt-

Cognition! He could throw himself into the cognitive world, so long as there was a distortion close enough-

He closed his eyes against the world around him, reaching into himself as air and rain buffeted him as he fell toward the ground, he only had seconds, if he couldn’t shift he’d crash to the ground and even if he wasn’t really a cat all he had was a cat body and from that height and with nothing but hard, unforgiving pavement waiting for him he was doomed-

He could hear someone shouting, he must have been close to the ground, but please, there had to be a distortion even if he was too far from Mementos-

And the world went dark and quiet in the moment before he hit the ground. 

*

Morgana hit the floor with enough force to chase the air out of his already bruised lungs, and he let out a soft, pained sigh. It wasn’t concrete beneath his paws but carpet, and he almost sobbed in relief in the moment before he summoned Zorro and cast Diarama over himself, breathing a little easier as he pulled himself up onto his feet. Two feet, because he did manage to step into a distortion, _thank god._

His fur bristled as he looked around himself – he needed to get out of here and get to the nearest TV, he needed to help Haru, but he still wanted to know exactly whose distortion he had fallen into. Maybe Okumura hadn’t managed to get too far from the building and he had stepped into his cognitive world – maybe the other Phantom Thieves were in there and he could get them to stop what they were doing and rescue Haru, but the world around him was pretty dark. 

The only lights in the place were few and far between, set in the floor rather than above, and as he began to walk toward the next light and his eyes began to adjust he noticed that the floor was sloping downward, and on either side of him were rows and rows of what looked like plush chairs, upholstered with dark velvet. Every seat seemed to be filled, but he couldn’t make out their faces in the darkness – he couldn’t tell if they were Shadows or cognitions, so he stayed low and tried not to make a sound to disturb them. 

It looked like the cinema on Central Street he had gone to with Ren, as much as he could tell in the dark, and as he came to that realisation there was a bright light shining opposite him. He raised a paw to shield his eyes, and watched with growing unease as pictures began to move on the screen. 

There was a girl in the foreground with curly blonde hair, wearing the uniform of an unfamiliar high school. Her accent was unfamiliar, but the undercurrent of growing fear in her voice mirrored Haru’s before that man had attacked her. And then hands from behind the camera grabbed her, and pushed her into the TV set behind her. Morgana recoiled, but as he did the faceless audience around him began to laugh and cheer, applause rippling through the room. His ears lay flat against his skull in disgust, and he looked around for some way out of this ghastly theatre. 

He spotted a lit up green sign hanging near the screen, and he hurried toward it as quickly and quietly as he could. The audience paid him no heed, their attention set only on the screen and the film playing on it, and he pushed the door open. 

He emerged in a lobby with dark grey carpet with a splotchy red pattern that almost looked like bloodstains, warm orange lights set in sconces on plain beige walls, most of the lights shining on posters that were even taller than Yusuke. The posters each contained portraits of people – mostly women – caught in expressions of pure terror, either being pushed inside television screens or already trapped within them. Some of them were wearing strange outfits, while others weren’t wearing much at all, even though most of them were teenagers or in their early twenties. There was writing across each of the posters, a title and a name of the show’s ‘star’, even if none of the names were familiar to Morgana. The poster directly outside the theatre he had emerged from featured the blonde girl boxed in by a pair of arms, fear on her face, and declared itself as ‘Witness’s Mistake’, starring Saki Konishi. 

There was a commotion a little deeper in the lobby, and as Morgana moved a little closer the hall he was in opened up into a circular room, a large counter in the centre manned by faceless Shadows in a navy uniform with an enormous liquor cabinet behind them. A few creatures were milling around, although all of them had their backs to him so he couldn’t see their faces and guess if they were cognitions or Shadows. He crept by them, lingering in whatever hidden corners he could see and approaching where the group was gathered. As he moved he thought he spotted a door at the far end of the lobby that was probably the exit, but he ignored it for now. 

Once he got closer he could hear what they were saying, and he realised that they all had the same voice – the voice of the man who had attacked Haru in her own home. 

“Wow, another one? The other kid hasn’t died yet!”

“Eh, it’s only a matter of time. It’s bad enough that he’s lasted this long.” 

Morgana stayed just out of the circle of cognitions, all of them dark haired and wearing a suit, craning his neck to try to see what they were gathered around. He couldn’t see anything, but after a moment there was movement and the doors to the theatre beside them swung open, and the cognitions began to head toward it, laughing amongst themselves at the prospect of a new film being available for them to see. As they began to disperse, he spotted a flash of silver, and when he looked closer he saw that there was another cognition mixed in with the crowd who didn’t look like the others. This cognition was wearing the dark blue uniform of a staff member, like the Shadow behind the bar was, but his short hair was a deep silver, and he was closing the cabinet that held the newest poster. 

A poster that had an enormous image of Haru, tears in her eyes, turning away from the camera in fear. Across the lower half of the poster were the words _Haru Okumura – Rich Bitch_. 

Morgana took a step back, and as he looked away he caught sight of another poster close to Haru’s, showing Akechi grinning at the camera with a bloody face and the shackles around his wrists. _Goro Akechi – Pathetic Prince._ There was no doubt anymore – this had to be the distortion of the culprit, the one who had attacked Haru and Akechi. 

He scurried away from the posters and the gathered cognitions and made his way toward the door that was probably the exit as quickly and quietly as he could, listening out for any sound of the guy’s name – he swore he’d heard Haru say it, but everything had happened so fast he couldn’t remember what she said. Luckily no one seemed to see him as he fled, and as he pushed open the door of the cinema and stepped out into the world, but he paused in the doorway. 

The world outside the cinema of his victims was covered in thick yellow fog, obscuring everything around them. 

Morgana hesitated in the doorway before stepping out, but he only took a few steps outside before deciding that he was far enough outside for him to transport himself back to the real world. So he closed his eyes and focused on the part of himself that let him travel between the worlds, and felt his form shift back into a more cat-like shape as he stepped back into the real world. 

But the minute he left the cinema behind and Tokyo surrounded him again, his injuries from before began to ache where the Diarama hadn’t managed to fully fix him, and heavy exhaustion filled his limbs. He wobbled a little on his feet, blinking his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision, and realised that in the space of (presumably) 24 hours, he had been inside both the TV world and the Metaverse, _and_ had been attacked in the real world. He didn’t think he’d ever had to do so much in so little time. 

And it was still raining, he realised belatedly, as water began to pound against his fur. He definitely needed to find shelter, and somewhere for him to hide until he felt well enough to go back to Leblanc, or find a TV to get into and save Haru-

“Hey little buddy,” a rough voice attempting a gentle tone said, and Morgana tensed. “Where’d you come from?”

He glanced around sharply, searching for the voice, and he caught sight of a young man standing nearby wearing a dark hoodie and glasses, intense eyes set in a stern face with a scar over his eyebrow and silver earrings glittering in his ear. Nevertheless, his smile was soft as he crouched down beside him, and Morgana eyed him suspiciously. He wasn’t exactly in a trusting mood right now, and this guy looked like a punk who wasn’t quite trying hard enough not to look like a punk.

“I don’t have time for this,” he huffed, trying to take a step away and almost collapsing as he did. “I need to find a TV and save Haru.” But just as he turned away from the stranger, he saw his eyes widen with shock. 

“Did...” the stranger said, and Morgana glanced back over to him. “Did you just talk?”

Morgana stared, ears twitching. “You can understand me?” 

“You’re definitely talking,” the stranger mumbled, rubbing at his jaw. “Holy shit, a talking cat.” 

“How can you hear me?” Morgana demanded, but as he raised his voice black spots began to dance across his vision, and he started to list to the side. “Have you been in the Metaverse? Are you working with the Black Mask? And I’m not a cat!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the stranger said, still staring at him with wide eyes even as concern began to creep into his face. “But are you okay? You don’t look too good, little guy.”

“I...” He tried to blink again, and the world spun a little. “I need to...”

“Hey, whoa there!” Gentle hands caught him before he fell over, and lifted him up. “D-don’t worry about it little guy, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

“No,” Morgana mumbled, trying and failing to wiggle out of the stranger’s grip. “I need to… save Haru.”

“I’ll help you save them,” the stranger promised, even though he had no idea what he was promising. “Just hang in there, little guy.”

Morgana had no chance to question him before his eyes slipped shut and he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adachi is a really terrible person, but new friends are on the way! ^_^


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro reaches the final screen, and the Midnight Channel has two performers.

There were Shadows milling around the floor that Goro and Teddie were making their way through, although they weren’t particularly strong. They were much weaker than the Shadow that had sprung from his own Shadow’s arm, able to be taken down by just Teddie alone most of the time, but Goro ended up using Neko Shogun’s one attack on a particularly strong Shadow that resembled a hulking pig in a police officer’s uniform. Goro had wondered if that particular appearance had been a result of his subconscious, but Teddie had informed him that similar Shadows had been present in all of his former teammates’ studios. 

Regardless, the fact that the Shadows were actively getting weaker was positive – it was likely that they wouldn’t experience much trouble on the way out of here, unless his Shadow decided to try one final time to bar their escape. Goro was expecting that, at least, but Teddie had assured him multiple times that so long as he accepted himself the Shadow would be placated, and may actually let them leave without a fight. And maybe by the time they reached the final screen, seeing the final memory that his Shadow wanted him to see, he’d know exactly what to say to it to get it to rejoin him and return his Personas, and he could move on with his life. 

But the thought of that final screen and what might be on it was making anticipation thrum under his skin. 

The environment around him was _their_ apartment, the couch in front of the screens was _their_ couch – this place can’t have brought him here and showed him so much of his life without showing her. But none of the memories he’d been shown had been happy, and while he wanted nothing more than to see her again, even in such a place as this, he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t afraid of which memory his subconscious would choose. 

Teddie was walking a little slower, sniffing the air obnoxiously, and Goro glanced over to him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Something wrong?” he asked, keeping the tension out of his voice, and Teddie frowned. 

“I smell something weird,” he said slowly. “It smells like there’s something in here – not quite a Shadow, but not a human either. It’s beary close, too!” He paused, and Goro stopped walking, although his foot tapped the carpeted floor impatiently. Just above Teddie’s head was a pair of photographs showing him and his mother drawing pictures at their kitchen table, and he tried not to stare at them. 

“Huh,” Teddie said softly, ears twitching. “It’s gone.” 

“Oh well,” Goro said, flashing a small smile. “I’m sure it was nothing important. Shall we continue?” 

He didn’t wait for Teddie to agree before he kept walking, and he breathed a relieved sigh when he shoved open another studio door and a staircase leading down stood before them. One more floor, and then they’d be at the entrance. He descended, Teddie at his heels, and emerged in the final room with the screen. He made his way over to the couch, running his hand over the back of it and breathing deep before moving to take a seat. Teddie sat down on the other couch, seeming to finally realise that Goro didn’t particularly like having the bear shoved up right next to him on the furniture, but Goro didn’t spare him a glance as he turned to the screen and waited. The previous screen hadn’t shown her. This was his last chance.

The screen began to turn on, and his breath caught. 

In his memories she was always pristine, a bright-eyed smiling angel made of softness and warmth, every imperfection smoothed away by the passage of time, but the woman on the screen was not as flawless. Her hair and eyes were the same colour as his, but her face was pale and gaunt despite the smoky eyeshadow and eyeliner and the smudged red lipstick. She looked tired, and the smile she gave the camera – gave _him_ – was soft but exhausted. 

“Goro-chan,” she began, and at the sound of her voice his heart swelled with joy and grief so strong that he almost choked on it. He hadn’t thought that he could still feel so much. “Come over here, baby.”

The camera moved closer to her, climbing up on the couch so that he sat right beside her. Her arms – had they always been so thin? - wrapped around him, tugging him against her bony shoulder, and Goro closed his eyes and for a moment thought he could feel her solid weight sitting on the couch beside him. 

“Look at what my friend gave me today,” she said, and his eyes snapped open just in time to see her glance away, her soft brown hair falling across her face before she turned back with a little jewellery box in her hands. She prised open the lid delicately, and inside were a pair of long, glittering silver earrings, shaped like teardrops and inlaid with what looked like diamonds to his inexperienced eye. 

“Pretty,” the soft, high voice of a child said, and she laughed, squeezing him a little tighter. 

“They are, aren’t they? They might even be real.” She delicately plucked one of he earrings from the box and held it up to her ear, over the earring that was already in it. “Do you think they suit me?” 

“Yeah,” the child’s voice answered, already knowing the right answer even though he didn’t really know what she meant by that. 

“Oh you’re very kind Goro-chan,” she told him, and tucked the earring back into the box. “But I can’t keep them.” She put the box on their little coffee table. “I’ll take them to the pawn shop tomorrow, then we can go and get you a new coat, okay? You’re growing so fast.”

Goro remembered that around that time his shoes were getting too tight, as well as the arms of his coat stopping well before his wrists, but even so young he knew better than to seem ungrateful for anything his mother did for him. Once he had told her that he didn’t like the toy she’d gotten him – a ball, when there was nowhere to go and no one he could play with – and he had watched her face fall, heard her fight back tears as he made an already hard day even worse. Now he knew better. 

“I got something, Mama,” the child said, and the camera moved to follow a tiny hand as it dug into the pocket of his too-small coat. He withdrew a man’s watch, black and bulky and barely fitting inside his hand, and held it out to his mother. She gave a dramatic gasp, her hand flying to her mouth, but her eyes shone hungrily. 

The bathhouse that his mother sent him to when she had to entertain clients in their apartment had a problem with the lockers. Sometimes they didn’t lock properly, which made it incredibly easy for tiny hands to tug them open and rummage inside for any loose change or valuables that hadn’t been hidden well enough. He didn’t do it all the time – he made sure that it was only around once a month, knowing that if he did it too often the attendants might piece together what he was doing, but every time it was worth it to see the look of joyful relief on his mother’s face. 

He had known that stealing was wrong, but also that it wasn’t wrong all the time. There were noble thieves who stole from the rich and gave to the needy, and Goro was well aware that he and his mother were needy. This way he cut out the middle man, and helped them himself. 

“Oh Goro,” she said, lifting the watch from his hand and rubbing her thumb over its face, “well done, baby. This will help us so much.” She kissed the crown of his head, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled himself close. She hugged him back, but her eyes weren’t on him but instead on the watch and earrings beside them. 

“This will keep us going for a little longer,” she whispered.

“It won’t,” his Shadow’s voice added from around them, and Goro gritted his teeth, wishing nothing more than for that voice to disappear. “It won’t be enough. She’ll have to get three more clients this week to pay rent. She won’t have any time to spend with you, and with every day it’ll get harder and harder to survive.”

She was kissing his head again, holding him close, and said the words that no one else had ever said to him.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too,” Goro whispered. He’d tear the world itself apart to avenge her, destroying the comfortable lives of people who had nothing to worry about while she had been fighting to put food on the table, and would obliterate the corrupt system that had failed her and elevated his father. When Shido had fallen from his pedestal and lay broken at his feet, he would destroy everyone who had empowered such a disgusting man, and raze the world that had failed him and his mother until there was nothing but ash.

That was what love was – consuming, destructive power that he would use as fuel to burn the world.

She smiled once more, so sad and tired, and the screen began to dim before the image shut off entirely. He felt abruptly drained once she was gone, trying to keep the image of her in his mind’s eye so it was easier to recall once he was out of here, but as the screen began to sink into the floor there was a low rumbling all around him and the floor at his feet began to tremble. He held on tight to the couch, but the shaking just seemed to grow stronger instead of weaker, and he turned sharply to look at Teddie and gauge his reaction. 

The bear had an exaggerated look of shock on his face, his eyes wide as he clung to his own couch, and Goro’s eyes narrowed at him. 

“What’s happening?” he demanded. “Is the world changing because I’ve seen the final screen?”

“I don’t know!” Teddie exclaimed, completely unhelpful. “This has never happened before!” He paused, expression contorting into a look of intense concentration. “It feels like it does when the world changes because someone’s been thrown in here, but I’ve never felt it while I’ve already been inside someone’s place before!” He blinked in shock. “It feels like there’s someone else in here, but there hasn’t been two people in here since Namatame!” He inhaled deeply, and Goro wrinkled his own nose in disgust before Teddie flailed around in surprise. “There’s definitely someone else in here! They’re close by!” 

Someone else was here, so someone else had found their way into this world. There was a chance that someone had just fallen in, or been thrown in like he had, but if they had managed to make their way into this world on their own, then there was a chance that they knew exactly where the exit was.

Goro practically leapt up off the couch, striding through the open doorway that lay before them now that the screen was gone. Teddie jumped up just as soon as he realised what Goro was doing, hurrying after him as he began the search for the staircase. 

“If someone else is stuck in here,” Teddie began from his side, “then I need to go and rescue them too. The fog has to be coming soon – I can’t just leave them behind.” 

“You told me that you had no intention of leaving this world with me,” Goro reminded him. “If you need to rescue them, then you can show me the exit first. I imagine it’ll be easier to save them without also needing to protect me.” 

Teddie gave him an assessing look. “You’ll need to accept your Shadow before you can leave, Grr-o. But if you do, then you can help me save them!” 

Goro had to bite back a scoff at that. What, so he was supposed to turn into some kind of good Samaritan just because he was also stuck in here? As soon as he had his Personas back he was heading straight to Shido’s Palace and seeing just how much damage this impromptu break had wrought. 

“Sure,” he said anyway – agreeing would be easier than fighting Teddie over this, and he had no need to actually keep his word. 

Teddie brightened at that, and as they wandered the halls of the surprisingly empty final floor Goro found himself searching for his Shadow. If he’d seen everything he had to see then it was bound to turn up sooner or later, and he could get this wretched experience over with. 

And when he pushed open a final door and emerged in an entrance hall with a staircase leading down at its back, it was his Shadow who he found. 

Somehow his Shadow looked even worse than it had when he had seen it last. It was no longer missing the arm that it had thrown at Teddie, but the bruising on its face seemed even more severe. Its hair was shorter, cut in an awkward, broken line that now just brushed the ends of his ears, and it had lost the blazer, simply standing in front of him in his white short-sleeved shirt, stained with blood. The skin around the manacles was red and inflamed, and the smile set in its face was too wide and wild. 

Goro stared at it, discomfort roiling in his stomach and he set his jaw. 

“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, trying to keep his tone even and keep up the appropriate level of derision. “What’s all of this supposed to symbolise, then? How far I’m willing to fall in order to be loved, perhaps?” 

The Shadow blinked at him, almost like he hadn’t quite noticed he was there. 

“No,” it answered. “This is what the people want to see.” 

“The people?” Goro repeated. “Do you mean the masses who have been watching your performances?” His fingers curled into fists. “What have you told them? Which of my secrets have you felt necessary to share with the world?” 

“I told them enough,” it answered, not helpful in the slightest, and it examined him a little closer. “Why are you giving me that look? This is what you want.”

Goro barked a laugh. “Absolutely _none_ of this is what I want. I want to get out of here, I want my Personas back-”

“You want to be loved,” the Shadow finished, and Goro bristled. 

“So you tell the entire world why I shouldn’t be?” he hissed. “You show me example after example of people who don’t love me, who _never_ loved me, and remind me that the only person who ever told me they loved me is dead? That her life was utterly miserable before she killed herself, and I only made it harder?” He took a step closer, his fingernails digging into his skin so hard he thought they’d break through and draw blood. “You reach into my head and tell me I deserve to die-”

“I didn’t say that,” the Shadow interrupted, raising a hand, and Goro glared. 

“The very first thing you asked me-”

“I asked you why you deserve to die. I didn’t state that it was true, I asked for your opinion. You’ve seen some of the memories that make you who you are, so tell me, Goro Akechi. Why do you _believe_ that you deserve to die?”

Defensive anger rose inside him. “I don’t,” he answered, and the Shadow raised an eyebrow. Teddie snagged his arm, and when he reluctantly broke eye contact to glance to the bear he was shaking his head firmly. 

“Don’t deny your Shadow,” Teddie told him firmly. “If you do then it’ll fight you, and I’m not strong enough to take it down on my own.” 

_That’s your own fucking problem,_ he wanted to sneer, but he was still in control of himself enough to know that potentially losing his ticket out of here in an avoidable battle was a situation he would rather like to avoid. He took in a deep breath, his headache beginning to stab at the back of his eyes. 

“Fine,” he hissed, and he looked at the Shadow who was waiting patiently for him to speak. 

It had told him back when he had seen the first screen that he needed to look beyond the obvious, and that the screens were intended for self-reflection, yet what had he seen? His work for Shido, his desperation to be good for Wakaba, his own family wanting nothing to do with him… the pattern was rather obvious, but he still didn’t know why this, of all things, was what his Shadow had latched onto. Why it had chosen this instead of the violence. 

“Because I’m alive and she isn’t,” he stated with as little emotion as he could. “Because no matter what I do, no one will ever love me like she did.”

“Why?” the Shadow asked, and anger licked like fire through his veins. 

“Why?” Goro sneered. “You said it yourself – I’m a disease, a plague, a curse! Anyone who cares for me is condemned-”

“That’s what happens once they care for you,” the Shadow said. “But why does no one care for you in the first place? What are you doing wrong?” 

“What the hell do you want me to say?” he hissed. “How many times can I tell you I’m cursed?”

“Maybe you are cursed,” the Shadow began, “or maybe you’re doing the wrong things.” Before Goro could challenge it, its expression brightened. “But don’t worry,” it continued, spreading its hands as wide as it could and exposing a little more of the red raw bands around its wrists from the manacles. “I’m doing everything they want me to do. I’m everything they want me to be.”

“They want me to look like this?” Goro snarled, eyeing the bruises, the shorn hair, the missing clothes with fury and despair. “Beaten and humiliated?”

“Human desire is an ugly thing,” the Shadow mused. “You’d know that better than anyone.” 

Unthinkingly he began to lunge for the Shadow, wanting nothing more than to grab it by the collar of its shirt and wrap his hands around its throat, but as he moved the world itself seemed to lurch, the spotlights hanging overhead shaking dangerously. The Shadow glanced up towards them, making a quiet, irritated noise. 

“Trying to steal my airtime,” it muttered, and it turned away from Goro even as he tried to reach it once more. His head was beginning to pound, the overwhelming migraine that seemed to accompany every time he lost consciousness in this world returning, but even as Teddie moved to help prop him up Goro refused to succumb to it. This meant that his Shadow was about to perform on that Midnight Channel – that it was preparing to share his secrets with the world and ruin his life. 

“Don’t you dare tell them about Shido!” he screamed after his Shadow. “If you tell the world one single thing about Shido I’ll kill you, no matter what it does to me!” 

The Shadow didn’t respond, but Teddie gave Goro a concerned look that only grew stronger when his knees began to give out. The spotlights overhead began to flicker out one by one, and Teddie’s ears twitched nervously as he looked around himself. 

“Don’t worry, Grr-o!” he exclaimed. “I’ll get you somewhere safe!”

As the ground beneath them trembled the light directly overhead blinked out, shrouding them all in darkness in the moment before Goro’s consciousness faded and the world fell away. 

*

Ren was exhausted by the time he made it back to Leblanc, the weight of the Metaverse lying heavy on his shoulders. Sojiro looked up from the bar as he stepped back inside, gaze flickering to the too-light, Mona-less bag over his shoulder, and the faint note of concern in his tone as he greeted Ren let him know that Morgana hadn’t yet returned. Sojiro wasted no time in closing up for the night, and Ren eyed the yellow phone on the bar, wondering if it was worth calling Kawakami for a massage before deciding against it. It didn’t feel right going back out when Morgana still wasn’t home. 

He went through the motions of getting ready to go to bed, brushing his teeth and changing into his pyjamas before perching on the edge of his bed and staring at the television screen across the room from him. Even though his eyelids were drooping, apprehension felt like electricity pulsing through his veins; he was certain that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, even if he tried.

Would Morgana appear on the TV at midnight, if he was still in there? Would Akechi appear, or would it be his Shadow like Morgana said it was? And if it was the real Akechi, would he look worse than the last time he had been forced to perform on TV? 

Ren’s phone buzzed and his gaze was pulled toward it, spotting the message from Futaba across the screen.

**hacked okumura hq, our logo is on every screen  
gonna crash for the night, i’ll sort out the phan poll tmrw**

Ren typed a quick thanks and sent it before turning back to the TV, leaning back against the wall as he blinked at it. The rain was getting heavier now, and with every tap against the window his anxiety grew. It shouldn’t take too much longer for the show to start, but every second that ticked by felt like an hour – especially without Morgana talking beside him. 

It was strange how empty and lonely his room felt without Morgana. He’d never felt lonely when he was alone in his room back in his hometown, but now that he was alone here it was like his first night in Tokyo all over again, left stranded and adrift in a hostile, unfamiliar place. 

He almost jumped when the sound of his TV tuning in echoed through the silent room, and all fatigue that was clinging to him faded when the screen lit up with hazy yellow static before it cleared. His stomach dropped through the floor when Akechi appeared on the screen. 

His hair had been cut in an uneven, haphazard way, like someone had simply grabbed and hacked it off without care, and without the brown locks framing his face his jawline and cheekbones looked sharper, harsher. There was more blood on his face and his shirt, but his tie and jacket were missing, revealing red rings circling his wrists above the line of his gloves. As Ren stared in horror he abruptly recalled the poll that had been created on the Phantom Thieves website – Futaba had promised she’d get rid of it as soon as she could, but he hadn’t managed to bring himself to check the site and see if it was still there. But even so, it looked as if the kidnapper had acted upon almost every suggested action on the poll, aside from letting him go and killing him. 

_It could be the Shadow,_ he reminded himself, but that thought didn’t touch the rage boiling through his veins at the sight of Akechi looking like this. 

He had always been completely in control of his appearance, everything about him seemingly perfectly manufactured. He’d seemed irritated from something as little as Ren messing up his hair at that one cafe in Kichijoji; there was no way that he’d have just quietly consented to having his hair cut off. 

_Maybe that’s why he’s even more hurt,_ he thought, and he had to force himself to breathe.

“Hello again, dear viewers!” Akechi was saying, smiling widely at the screen once more. “My, my, what a large audience we have today! I must have caught your attention in my previous show!” The screen flickered for a moment, a hazy image of what looked like a woman in a large white dress superimposing itself over Akechi before it disappeared again, and Ren’s brow furrowed in confusion as Akechi continued. “I hope you’re all happy to see me like this, showing all that you wanted to see, but that isn’t why you’re here, is it?” 

He rested a gloved hand on his chin as he looked at the camera, but as he paused Ren picked up another sound in the background that his voice had drowned out. A quiet, feminine voice humming softly.

“I bet you all want to know all the gory details, don’t you?” Akechi continued. “Now that I’ve shared my ghastly secret with you all – that I’m a murderer.”

Ren had almost forgotten that final confession of Akechi’s before the Hawaii trip, but he had to admit he hadn’t given it much thought after the fact. It had to be an exaggeration – even if he _had_ heard Morgana, even if he’d gone into the Metaverse… he couldn’t really be a murderer, could he?

“So in this episode of Goro Akechi: Unmasked, I’m going to tell you all about my first murder, the only murder that matters, so I hope you are all sitting very comfortably.” 

The humming grew louder, almost drowning out Akechi’s words, and the image of a woman in a white dress shimmered on the screen. 

“Are you ready?” he asked. “Well then.” He leaned forward, and the camera zoomed closer to his face. “When I was a child, I killed my mother.”

Ren froze. He hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been that. 

“My mother loved me,” he said. _“Me,_ even though I was nothing but a curse and a drain on her. Every day she struggled to keep us fed and a roof over our heads, and every day I was a parasite, a leech, a curse who just made everything worse. She tried to stay strong, tried to protect us and keep us safe, but eventually she was just worn down by the misery that my existence brought upon her. So, what did she do? Did she get rid of the monster ruining her life, making every single day a struggle? She should have. She should have killed it before it could hurt her.” Anguish was shining in Akechi’s eyes. “But she didn’t. It wasn’t the monster who died, but it was the monster who was responsible. If she hadn’t given birth to such a disgusting, wretched little bastard, then she could have had a happy life, and she wouldn’t have had to hurt herself.” The humming grew even louder, as Akechi’s desperate, miserable words pierced Ren’s heart. “I’m responsible. I’m a murderer.”

He smiled grimly at the camera, and the screen seemed to grow fuzzy and blurry as the woman appeared again. Ren found himself glancing away from Akechi’s face and toward the girl instead, confused by her sudden appearance. Why was someone else appearing on the screen, even as blurry and indistinct as she seemed to be? Was she another victim that the kidnapper had decided to bring out, or was she another Shadow? If this was the Metaverse, then was she the cognition of Akechi’s apparently deceased mother?

The more he focused on her the clearer her image seemed to be, Akechi and the bright studio behind him becoming fuzzy and unclear instead. He made out soft brown hair beneath what looked like a bridal veil, but her face was turned away from the camera as she hummed to herself, swinging something in front of her with both hands. 

The camera showed her from the waist up, and as her image grew clearer he could make out the glittering diamonds sewn into the bodice of her white dress, painting flowers across the fabric. Long, sheer gloves ran up to her elbows although her hands were hidden in front of her, and Ren found himself thinking that the dress resembled both a western-style wedding dress and a princess’s gown from a fairy tale. The camera began to pan out, revealing more of the dress and the large white skirts blooming from her waist, glittering with flowers and stars intricately embroidered into the lace, and she let out a quiet gasp. She turned her face toward the camera, and Ren’s breath caught. 

She was the girl who had been sitting alone on a bench on the Hawaii trip, and there was blood splattered across her face. 

“Oh!” she said softly, turning around completely, and the front of her dress was almost completely covered in blood, soaking the bottom right side of her dress and dripping on the floor while a diagonal arc of red slashed across her skirts. Blood dotted across the bodice of the dress, turning the diamonds to rubies, and the spray of red across her face, staining her cheek and her lips, suddenly seemed like nothing compared to the sheer volume of it clinging to the hem of the dress. 

Clutched in both of her hands was an axe, gore dripping from the double-headed blade, but she was holding it delicately, like it was just a handbag and not a weapon that looked like it had already been used with deadly precision. 

“Why are you looking at me?” she demanded, the same high voice that had so hesitantly expressed her disapproval of the Phantom Thieves now dripping with fury. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you here for the wedding?” She lifted the axe a little higher, and flashed a cruel smile. “I’m afraid it’s been called off. I, Haru Okumura, will not be getting married – not now, not ever. I refuse to be chained down by a man who wishes to trap me and own me. I belong to no one but myself, now and forever.” She brandished the axe, lifting her chin as she glared at the camera. “If you want to trap me, then go ahead and try. Come and find me – I’d love to introduce you to my axe.” 

She turned away from the camera in a swirl of her skirts, the red of the blood hidden by the white of her dress, and began to step away, swinging the axe and humming to herself as she went. The studio around her looked like some sort of medieval tower, but the further she went from the camera the hazier it got before it faded entirely to black, the screen switching off once more. 

_I missed the end of Akechi’s show,_ Ren realised, and he wondered if he hadn’t focused on the girl if the screen would have stayed solely on Akechi instead. And then - _she said her name was Okumura._

_Futaba just hacked Okumura’s HQ._

His stomach felt like it hit the floor, and he pulled out his phone immediately. Makoto had also picked up on the girl’s name, while Ryuji was expressing shock at the implications of Akechi’s home life. Futaba was nowhere to be found in the chat, and her final message to him was still sitting at the top of his list. She was probably going to be out until at least the next morning – so she wouldn’t be able to remove their logo from Okumura’s computer systems or delete the Phan Site poll until she woke up. 

_This is such a mess,_ Ren thought, sagging back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling.   
He should have listened to Morgana. He should have waited before going after Okumura, or at least waited until after midnight before asking Futaba to hack the computers. Instead he’d rushed in, not thinking ahead, and had not only done nothing to help Akechi but had implicated his team in not only his but Haru Okumura’s disappearance. 

**I’m sorry,** he typed into the group chat. **I’ve messed up, but we can fix this. We can save both of them.**

They had to get to both of them and fast, before the situation got even worse than it already was.

_Are the Phantom Thieves Just?  
54%  
Anon: this isn’t funny anymore guys  
Anon: y’all are freaks #FreeAkechi  
Anon: LMAOOO #KillAkechi  
Anon: striptease next show pls  
Anon: why was that girl there? she missing too?  
Anon: STEP ON ME AXE-CHAN  
Anon: wtf are u guys talking about  
Anon: always knew he was a bastard lol_

*

Morgana woke up to his entire body aching, and a host of unfamiliar smells. He cracked open an eye and saw a completely new room around him – he was on a couch that was covered in what looked like a handmade throw blanket, dark navy yarn intertwined with white and yellow thread so it looked like constellations in a night sky. There were warm fairy lights strung across the wall behind him, shining light on framed photographs and movie posters, and the room was filled with mismatched furniture and large houseplants that trailed leaves across the hardwood floor. 

He raised his head hesitantly as he looked around himself, and he caught sight of two unfamiliar figures standing in a doorway nearby, speaking in low voices.

“You know you should have taken him to a vet, right?” a woman’s voice began, high and sharp and distinctly unimpressed. 

“I heard you the first time, dammit,” a man’s voice replied, and Morgana recognised that voice as the guy who’d talked to him in the street. “And I already told you, he said he wasn’t a cat. What if they try to scan him and nothin’ turns up, like what happened with Ted at the hospital? I tell them he ain’t my cat and we never see him again.”

“You need to get your ears checked, Kanji,” the woman replied. “I bet you just wanted a pet that doesn’t run away from your scary face, right?” 

“I mean, yeah, but this ain’t like that! He talked to me in the street!” The woman gave a small, disbelieving noise, and Morgana practically heard the man’s frown. “After everything we saw back home, is a talking cat really that weird? We saw Ted grow a body out of nowhere!” 

“Yeah, but that was years ago! It’s all over now, we’re back in the boring old real world now.”

“Hey,” Morgana called, and saw their shadows jump. “Are you talking about me?” 

“Told you!” the man’s voice exclaimed triumphantly, but it was the woman who hurried over to him, eyes wide. Her face was framed by chestnut brown hair falling in loose waves, and she was wearing a bright orange dress accented by a golden necklace. She was pretty, looking like she was about to go out modelling alongside Lady Ann, and she stared at him with shock clear on her face.

She looked familiar for some reason, now that he could see her face, and Morgana squinted as he tried to place her until she blinked and he saw the woman surrounded by blue on posters all over Shibuya. She was in some of the framed posters on the walls too, like she was some kind of movie star.

“You’re that poster girl!” he exclaimed, and she looked even more startled. “Joker has a poster of you in the attic!” 

“Well,” she said after a moment, recovering enough to flash a bright, show-ready smile, “you never told me he was a fan, Kanji!” She lifted her hands to give a double wave. “Rise Kujikawa – or Risette – at your service! What’s your name, kitty?” 

“I’m not a cat,” Morgana insisted. “My name is Morgana!” He tried to stand up on his shaky legs, and he gave this ‘Rise’ a suspicious look that he also levelled at the man who must be Kanji, who was still hanging back a little. “You both can understand me? Are either of you in league with the Black Mask?” 

Rise and Kanji exchanged a glance, Rise raising an eyebrow while Kanji shrugged helplessly, and they both turned back to Morgana. 

“We have no idea what you mean by Black Mask,” Rise said. “But yeah, it looks like we can both understand you.”

“If you’re not a cat, are you just some person who got stuck looking like a cat?” Kanji asked, frowning at him a little. “And… can I pet your fur, little guy?” 

Morgana looked at him haughtily, before deciding that so long as this guy wasn’t very heavy-handed, getting pets might be nice. He’d had a really rough day. 

“You may,” he said, and Kanji’s face brightened as he moved to his side. “And I’m a human, no matter what I look like!”

“Sure you are, little guy,” Kanji said, scratching an itch behind his ear that Morgana hadn’t noticed was there. “But how did you just end up in the middle of the street? It’s really busy around there, it’s not safe for little guys like you.”

“It’s not like I chose to be out there on my own,” Morgana huffed, but he didn’t move away from Kanji’s hand. “It’s where I landed after I got out of-” He paused, looking between the two of them, abruptly recalling everything that had happened the previous day. “I need to go back in!” He spoke quickly, but the minute he tried to move his bones themselves seemed to protest and he sagged back down. 

“Back in where, Morgana?” Rise asked, tone gentle, and Morgana’s hackles rose. 

“In the TV!” he exclaimed, and both of them froze. Kanji withdrew his hand from Morgana’s head, but Morgana barely noticed. “Akechi’s Shadow was too strong so I had to go, but Haru got thrown in by Black Mask and I need to save her!”

“Wait, slow down,” Rise said, her eyes widening as Kanji’s face grew pale. “Did- did you say that someone had been thrown into the TV?”

“I thought we stopped all that,” Kanji said softly, rubbing at his jaw as he stared at Rise. “We caught that Namatame guy – didn’t Yosuke say that they couldn’t go through the TV in Junes anymore?”

“It was supposed to be over,” Rise agreed, voice shaking slightly before her eyes widened and she turned back to Morgana. “Wait a sec. Did you say someone’s Shadow was in there? Are there _two_ people in there?” 

“Yes! Akechi was thrown in there weeks ago-”

“Akechi,” Kanji repeated quietly. “That’s the new Detective Prince, right? The one who’s missing?”

“-but Haru was attacked yesterday! I need to save them!”

“Weeks ago,” Rise said, beginning to grow pale. “Oh crap, the fog – the fog has to be coming soon, doesn’t it?” She stared at Kanji. “Kanji, we need to go in there.”

“Yeah, but if we just go straight in then we might not be able to get out,” he replied. “We could only get out back home because Ted made an exit, but Ted ain’t here. Plus I- I haven’t used my Persona in five years and neither of us can heal. Besides, ain’t Naoto coming home later? We shouldn’t just head in without her-”

“Hold on,” Morgana said, ears twitching anxiously. “You know about the TV world? You have _Personas?”_

“Yeah, we were thrown in when we were fifteen,” Kanji muttered, and then he blinked at Morgana. “Hold on, _you_ know about Personas? You a Persona-user?”

“I’m not just a Persona-user,” Morgana told them, puffing out his chest a little. “I’m the founder of the Phantom Thieves!” 

Rise and Kanji shared a look again, but this time they looked distinctly more concerned. 

“...I’m calling Naoto,” Kanji said, and Rise nodded. 

“I’ll try to contact everyone, see if anyone can get to Tokyo in the next few days,” she said, and glanced back to Morgana. “You stay here for now, Morgana.” 

“Wait, why are you guys acting like this?” Morgana demanded. “Why are you acting so unimpressed? The Phantom Thieves are heroes, and it’s all because of me!” 

Kanji grimaced. “The news is blaming the Phantom Thieves for what happened to Akechi,” he said, and Morgana’s jaw fell open. “They’re making it sound like-”

“It wasn’t us!” Morgana insisted, ears lying flat against his skull. “We’ve been trying to save him! Joker’s been worried sick ever since he vanished, but only I figured out he’s in the TV! They’re going to go and save him, they’re just sure that Okumura is the Black Mask, but it isn’t! It’s the police officer!” 

“Slow down,” Rise said, and Kanji looked completely lost. “You need to start from the beginning, tell us everything that’s going on and how the Phantom Thieves are involved in this.” 

“I need to call Naoto,” Kanji repeated. “Dammit, she thought that the Phantom Thieves could be Persona-users… she needs to hear all of this.”

“Who’s Naoto? Is she your leader?” 

“No,” Kanji said, but they both looked a little pained at the mention of a leader. “It’s probably worth trying to contact Narukami-senpai, right? He might actually call us back if we say it’s to do with the TV world.”

“It’s… it’s worth a shot,” Rise said, a lot quieter than before before her usual cheer came back. “And Naoto’s our friend – and roommate, when she has to come back to Tokyo for work. But she’ll be able to help figure everything out.” Rise’s eyes shone with something like pride. “She’s the original Detective Prince.”

*

There was blood in the expensive penthouse carpet, and Naoto Shirogane made a mental note to go back to it and take a sample once she was officially hired, to find out who it belonged to – the culprit or the victim. She didn’t let her gaze linger too long on the crime scene, keeping her attention focused on the potential victim’s father standing across from her, face pale and pulled into a furious scowl that made her keep her own expression professionally neutral. 

Her experience around angry rich men had taught her to give them no quarter, to put her foot down and make sure that they knew that she was not someone who would bend or be intimidated. She had grown out of the unfitting label of ‘child’, but sadly had kept the short stature that made it so much easier for certain people to look down their noses at her. But she knew how to make her presence firm and solid even if it was not large – she had performed in this dance ever since she was a teenager, and had carved out a reputation so strong that no asinine question of her ability could touch her. Any such comment would simply bounce off the skin she had made bulletproof over the years. 

“Are you certain that you don’t want to go to the police?” Naoto asked. She knew his answer, of course, but wanted to avoid any conversations along the line that suggested that she had steered him away from the proper channels. 

As expected, Kunikazu Okumura immediately shook his head. “They cannot be trusted. They’re all in the pocket of my enemy.”

She didn’t comment on that, despite how paranoid such a statement was. Instead she nodded once, folding her arms and keeping her gaze on the man despite wanting nothing more than to better examine the crime scene. 

“Very well. I understand you wish to hire my skills as a private investigator to find your daughter? Can you tell me when she went missing?”

“She disappeared last night,” he stated. “I went to a meeting and when I returned she was not here, and there was blood on my carpet. She knows better than to go out unsupervised, especially considering the threats we have been receiving.”

“Threats?” Naoto repeated. “Can you elaborate on that?”

Okumura scoffed. “It’s that infantile Phantom Thief website – apparently I need to have my heart changed, and confess to crimes like that mafia boss and the scam artist. As if I have such crimes to repent.” He shook his head. “Regardless, this childishness has inspired idiots to send threats to my home and business, and late last night all of the computers in my corporate headquarters were hacked to show their wretched logo as well as a statement that they can ‘get in anywhere’. Is it really a coincidence that they post this message all over my business at the same time my daughter disappears?” He gestured violently toward the television screen, and Naoto didn’t react. “They’ve already let their so-called ‘fame’ get to their heads, acting on whatever disgusting things the public demands they do to Akechi – I’m certain that they have targeted my daughter because of their wretched poll.” A flicker of worry shone in his face then, the angry, wronged businessman finally overcome by the concerned father. “I’ve come to you because of you and your family’s reputation, Shirogane-san. You have experience in unusual crimes, and you are no longer bound to a police department that would refuse to investigate if my enemy demands it.”

“You mentioned your enemy earlier,” Naoto noted, keeping her voice free of any inflection. “Who do you mean?”

Okumura looked at her for a long moment, as though weighing up his options, before a name passed his lips. 

“Masayoshi Shido. We were recently in business together, until he suddenly stopped heeding my requests. I believe he doesn’t appreciate my intentions to venture into the political sphere.”

“You believe he has a hold over the police?” Naoto pressed. This entire case was piquing her interest, but the potential existence of a powerful individual pulling strings behind the scenes that she would be able to expose appealed to her even more. “That he would take measures to compromise a police investigation?”

“Why else would the officers sent to me yesterday be so incompetent?” he shot back. “A prosecutor and a detective on loan from some backwards no-name town, coming to speak to _me_ about the threats, questioning _my_ expenses? It’s absurd.”

“Do you have the names of the individuals who spoke to you?” Naoto asked. “Do you have reason to connect them to this Shido?”

“Only the woman – someone called Niijima. I believe she is responsible for the lacklustre investigation into these Phantom Thieves, but I have no idea if she personally is in Shido’s pocket.” He scoffed again. “It would explain how she managed to become a prosecutor, at least. If she’s connected to him, he’ll be fucking her.” 

Naoto did not visibly react to that, but acknowledged the flicker of a fire in her gut at the vulgar dismissal of a woman with authority. 

“I’ll take your case,” she stated. “May I investigate this room, take some fibres from your carpet for analysis?” 

“Fine,” Okumura said, waving a hand. “I expect to see results immediately, Shirogane-san. If my daughter is not home by the end of the week, then I will not pay you for your services.”

At the mention of Phantom Thieves and an heiress missing from a guarded penthouse Naoto had been tempted to do the job for free anyway, but the man’s casual misogyny made her want to charge him even more for her services. Regardless, it wasn’t Okumura who was the priority here – it was his missing daughter, and the truth of her disappearance. The truth that she would find, as she always did.

“I will bring her home,” Naoto promised, bowing slightly toward the man before turning away and beginning to examine the scene. Her phone buzzed insistently in her pocket, but she ignored it for now in favour of examining the crime scene. 

The game was afoot, and she was going to win it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all so much for the kind comments and kudos!! ^_^


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves have a meeting, and Morgana makes a deal.

The scene was the same as it had been on all of the midnight TV shows that had played every rainy night, opening on a bright set and red couches that now looked ghoulish rather than inviting, but Ren’s attention was quickly drawn to the boy sitting on one of the couches, the camera pointed straight at him.

It was Akechi, of course, but he wasn’t just shackled at the wrists anymore – instead his entire body was crossed with tight chains. Anger was clear on his face, but his eyes were wide with fear. Ren tried to step closer, to free him and save him, but he found himself frozen, trapped as nothing more than an observer… and then a figure cloaked in black stepped past the camera, approaching him.

“Hello, detective,” the being purred in a strange drawl that both was and was not a voice, toneless and formless yet somehow perfectly clear, and dripping with amusement. “How wonderful to see you.”

Akechi’s eyes darted over to the man in black, and Ren watched him. He didn’t seem to have a definite form – as he moved closer to Akechi his body seemed to shift and shimmer, creeping forward more like a phantom than a man.

“You’ve been creeping around in things that don’t concern you,” the creature said, stopping in front of him in a way that should have obstructed Ren’s view of Akechi, but somehow the viewpoint shifted so that he could see them both perfectly. The detective looking defiantly up, staring into the long black mask that shrouded the entirety of the thing’s face. “You should have stopped while you were ahead.”

“The truth wins out in the end,” Akechi said, not so much as twitching in his bonds even as he stared him down.

Even though his mouth was obscured, Ren could picture the wicked grin on the Black Mask’s face.

“Of course it does.” His voice was soft, even as he reached for his hip and a gun materialised in his fingers. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll live to see it.”

Again Ren tried to somehow break through, to get to them, but it was like there was an invisible force holding him still, forcing him to simply watch and making him unable to act. He saw Akechi’s gaze track the gun, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“But seeing as you like the truth so much, you can share some.” The Black Mask lifted the gun languidly, pointing it straight at Akechi’s head. The detective didn’t flinch, but more colour drained from his face. “You haven’t just investigated me. You looked into the Phantom Thieves too. So, detective… what are their names?”

Ren felt his breath stop, and Akechi’s jaw twitched. “If I tell you their names, you’ll kill them,” Akechi stated, and the Black Mask moved the gun under his chin, tilting his face up with the barrel. He snapped off the safety with his thumb.

“If you don’t tell me their names, I’ll kill _you,”_ he promised. “I don’t need your info to find them, little prince – it’ll just speed up the process. But it could save your life, if you’re not stupid.”

Akechi looked away from him then, looking past him and somehow locking gazes with Ren, despite the television screen separating them. There was determination shining in his face, and as his jaw twitched, the gun moved.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and those words were soft before he turned back to the Black Mask with a bitter smile. “It seems like I’m a pauper after all.”

For a moment there was silence. Then the Black Mask gave a quiet scoff, and his finger brushed the trigger.

Ren snapped awake with the gunshot ringing in his ears.

He immediately snapped his head over to the TV screen opposite his bed, expecting to see a gory mess and the body of his friend, but of course the screen was dark and empty. He reached out to run a hand through Morgana’s fur for comfort, but hit nothing but the cold sheets. Morgana still wasn’t home.

He took in a deep breath, trying to shake the lingering dread that the nightmare had shot through his veins, and pulled himself out of bed. He had to face the day and somehow salvage everything that had gone wrong the night before, and decide where to go from here.

When he had eventually gotten dressed and staggered down the stairs he saw Futaba waiting at the bar, hunched over a cup of coffee and peering at him wide-eyed over her glasses. Ren offered her a reassuring smile that felt a little too tight on his face as he sat down at his usual seat, Sojiro emerging from the kitchen to place a plate of breakfast curry in front of him. Futaba was typing away at her phone, not looking at him, and after a moment Ren felt his own phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, muttering an apology to Sojiro, and blinked at Futaba’s name across the chat.

**You look terrible.**

Well. Good to know that he looked how he felt. He fought back the urge to type a sarcastic ‘thanks’, seeing the tension pulling Futaba’s posture taut, and decided to be honest.

**Bad dreams.**

Futaba glanced over to him, a sympathetic look in her face before she turned back to the phone.

**I’m really sorry about the hack.**

**I had no idea about Haru.**

**It’s not your fault.**

**I shouldn’t have pushed you to do it so quickly.**

Futaba paused, biting her lip.

**I took it down once I woke up**

**same with the phan site poll**

**but I found out something about the guy who set that up**

**I’ll tell everyone at the meeting**

**Okay.**

“Please tell me you two aren’t texting one another while you’re sitting right next to each other,” Sojiro said wearily.

“Course not!” Futaba protested, and then immediately continued texting Ren.

**Mona still hasn’t come home**

**what are we gonna do?**

Ren hesitated. Morgana hadn’t come home, it was true, but he also hadn’t turned up on the TV at midnight either. Maybe he’d been wrong and Akechi wasn’t in there, or maybe he had left the TV world before the midnight performance had a chance to play, without Akechi in tow. It had to be better to wait for Morgana to return and give them intel about this place that they knew nothing about rather than just finding a TV big enough for them to fit into and heading in. When Ren had stuck his head through the tiny screen he hadn’t exactly seen a world that looked easy to navigate.

**We’ll discuss it with everyone first.**

**But I think we should stick to the plan.**

**See if Shadow Okumura is there today.**

**Whatever you say, leader.**

Sojiro gave an exaggerated sigh, and the two of them tucked their phones away and each offered him a smile.

“Just stay out of trouble,” he groused, and Ren ducked his head as Futaba offered him a salute.

If only it was that easy.

*

“Okay!” Futaba chirped from the place on Ren’s bed she had claimed for herself, “Before we head into Okumura’s Palace for our second run, I have something interesting that I found out when I was shutting down the ‘what should be done to Akechi’ poll.”

Ren winced a little at how casually she said it, and the rest of the gathered Phantom Thieves looked grim and pale. It seemed that none of them had slept particularly well after the midnight performances had showed the escalation of Akechi’s ill treatment and revealed a second victim in Haru Okumura. Makoto and Ann had also arrived at Leblanc together again, suggesting that Makoto still hadn’t been able to go home, and that was just another reminder of how badly everything had gone wrong.

“What is it?” Yusuke asked, pulling Ren out of his thoughts, and Futaba grimaced.

“Okay, so you know how with coding everyone has a sorta ‘fingerprint’ that they leave whenever they make anything?” Everyone in the room gave her a blank look at that, and she rolled her eyes. “Well, they do! Everyone codes in a slightly different way, so like, someone with the know-how will look at the stuff I do and be all like ‘oh yeah, that’s the real Alibaba’, right?” She shifted a little, not waiting for the team’s agreement. “So whoever hacked us and made the bot poll put in some real big effort to make sure that their exact location couldn’t be traced, and I’m still not entirely there with that, but! I was looking at the code they were using, and even though it was a bit of a crappy job, not much individuality, that was kinda its own tell, y’know? And it was familiar!”

“Familiar?” Makoto repeated, seeming to latch onto that as the rest of Futaba’s explanation went over her head. “How so?”

“The Akechi poll isn’t the only thing they’ve messed with on our site,” she said, and paused for effect. “They’re messing with the rankings of whose heart to change too. They’re the reason Okumura was at the top, even when Akechi and Akechi’s kidnapper seemed to be getting a bunch more real votes.”

“So someone was trying to manipulate us into targeting Okumura?” Ann exclaimed, expression horrified.

“Dude, did they try to set us up so it looks like we’re the ones who are hurtin’ Akechi and who took his daughter?” Ryuji guessed, his leg tapping a frustrated rhythm on the floor. “Why the hell would they bother doin’ that?”

“That’s not all,” Futaba said. “Like I said, it seemed familiar even before I found out that they were messing with both polls.” She took a deep breath. “I think they’re behind Medjed too. The fake one, the one I took down when I joined you guys.”

“What?” the thieves said in unison, and Ren stayed quiet as he tried to process all the new information.

“I think they wanted to frame us,” Futaba stated. “I think they built us up with Medjed, and now are bringing us down with Akechi and Okumura.”

“Who the hell would do this?” Ryuji pressed. “That’s like, so much effort when we haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Black Mask,” Makoto stated, raising a hand to her chin. Nausea coiled in Ren’s stomach at the reminder of his nightmare, of the monster in black murdering Akechi for not selling them out. “If we were intruding on their turf, causing trouble for them and whoever was hiring them...”

“Yet didn’t we ascertain that Okumura was the one who hired the Black Mask?” Yusuke pointed out. “Prosecutor Niijima found a multitude of evidence for this.”

“But what if Okumura wasn’t the only one hiring Black Mask?” Ren mused, and all eyes turned to him. “What if they knew that Okumura was getting close to being caught, and decided to deal with him first?”

“By taking his daughter?” Ann finished dubiously.

“Perhaps this is a warning?” Makoto wondered. “Or maybe things are going wrong. If his daughter was not taken, then we would have continued targeting Okumura, right? Eventually we would have delivered a calling card and stolen his heart, made him confess his link to the Black Mask and any other crimes.” Her face was pale and tight. “If they were truly willing to get rid of Okumura, and wished to frame us, the Black Mask could have waited until the calling card was made public and followed us into his Palace, killing his Shadow before the change of heart could occur. They could then effectively frame us for both everything that’s happened to Akechi, and for murder as well.”

“So this is the Black Mask’s way of getting rid of all opposition in both this world and the Metaverse,” Yusuke summarised. “How deplorable.”

“Not all opposition,” Makoto whispered. Her hands were shaking. “Sis. Now that Akechi is gone she’s investigating both his disappearance and the mental shutdowns. She’s investigating _both.”_ She turned to Ren, wide-eyed and more afraid than he had ever seen her. Even when she had been in Kaneshiro’s clutches she didn’t seem to have fully comprehended the severity of the situation, while now she was gripped by it. “They’re going to target my sister next, I’m sure of it. It’s the only way to cover up all of their tracks.”

“We need to warn her!” Ann cried.

“She won’t listen to me,” Makoto said with a shake of her head. “And even if she did, she wouldn’t stop. Since Akechi vanished, this case has been personal to her. She won’t stop until she finds him, and she’s so desperate to catch the Phantom Thieves…” She grimaced. “If I try to help as Makoto, she’ll get angry. If I try to help as a Phantom Thief, she’ll get angry _and_ try to arrest me.”

“So we need to find Black Mask first, and stop them before they can hurt anyone else,” Ren finished. “Maybe Okumura will be willing to help us, now that Black Mask has turned on him.”

“You still wanna go back into his Palace?” Ryuji guessed, and Ren nodded.

“It gives Mona more time to get back to us,” he said, “and we need to see if his cognition is changed before it has a chance to wear off.” He stood up, letting the role of Joker fall over him like a cloak before he turned back to his team. It was easy to see the worry and fear in their faces, now that the rug had been pulled out from under them and their perception of the world had shifted from something hopeful to something darker. It was what he’d seen in his own face ever since Sae Niijima had arrived in Leblanc and told him that Akechi was missing.

But even when things were at their worst, they could be each others’ pillar, strong and unmoving as they guided each other forward, even if there were cracks in the foundations.

They’d hold each other together and keep going, and somehow everything would turn out alright.

*

As soon as Naoto opened the door to the house she shared with Rise and Kanji whenever she returned to Tokyo, feet beginning to ache in the platform boots that made her a scant few inches taller and scalp beginning to sting from where her hair was pulled up in a neat bun, she heard both of her housemates calling her name.

Normally it was a pleasant but unusual occurrence for all three of them to be home at the same time – often Rise was away performing or at rehearsals, while Naoto herself was often pulled all over Japan with her work. Only Kanji, working an internship at a famous Shibuya-based clothing brand, was often at home, but most of the time he was in his room with his sewing machine, making samples for his employers. But when Naoto slipped off her shoes and padded into the living room there they both were, having climbed to their feet to greet her.

And perched on one of the best cushions on the couch behind them, a little too close to a ball of silver yarn stabbed through with a crochet hook, was a completely unfamiliar black and white cat.

“...I thought pets weren’t allowed?” was the first thing she said, staring the cat down as it watched her with startlingly bright blue eyes. She was certain that was the case – Rise and Kanji together would have fought for at least one pet between them if one was permitted in the building.

“Is that Naoto?” a stranger’s voice said at the same time the cat’s mouth moved, and it turned to look at Rise for confirmation. Naoto froze in the doorway, surprise making her mute for a moment before she blinked and tried to be rational about this. She turned to Kanji first.

“Is this why you were trying to call me at work?” she asked, and he nodded.

Okay, that was one mystery solved.

“He’s a talking cat,” Kanji replied, and that solved another. Not an auditory hallucination, or, if it was, it was at least a shared one. She’d have to see if there had been any gas leaks in the area.

“His name is Morgana,” Rise added, and while that didn’t necessarily solve any mysteries it did at least provide some more information. “He says he’s a Phantom Thief.”

Once again Naoto was stunned silent, and she turned back to the cat who now distinctly looked like he was sizing her up. A talking cat was a member of the Phantom Thieves? The same Phantom Thieves who had potentially kidnapped Haru Okumura and Goro Akechi? She had suspected that maybe they were Persona-users, due to the lack of physical evidence for the actions that had led to the confessions of multiple criminals, but she hadn’t considered the possibility that they may not even be human.

“Kanji and Rise say that you were all part of a team involved with the TV world,” the voice said again, and yes, it certainly did seem that it was coming directly from the cat. “I only found out about that world a few days ago, and my team had no idea about it. We think the bad guy is using both the TV world and the Metaverse to get rid of people in their way. I tried to stop Haru being thrown in, but I… I wasn’t strong enough.”

Naoto pounced on that information before the cat could get sidetracked. “You saw Haru Okumura get thrown into the TV?”

“Yes!” The cat tried to stand up, wincing as he did so, and fixed her with a firm look. “But I’m not going to tell you more unless we make a deal!”

Naoto blinked at him, unimpressed. “I was the Detective Prince, and I’m a highly successful private investigator,” she reminded him. “I could find the truth of the matter myself.”

Rise made a whiny noise of disapproval as Morgana’s hackles rose, and Naoto’s eyes darted over to her. “Just hear him out first, Naoto!”

“We don’t know how the TV world works,” Morgana continued, looking at Naoto a little sullenly. “And when I went in there and found Akechi’s Shadow, it was really strong. But I also found the culprit’s Palace, and we can use that to make him confess! So this is the deal – you guys help us save Haru and Akechi from the TV world, and we’ll make sure the culprit confesses his crimes and is brought to justice. If we don’t change his heart, then there’s nothing to stop him just doing the same thing to someone else!”

Naoto took a moment to consider the offer. The re-emergence of the TV world was something she never would have expected, but if both Haru Okumura and the missing detective prince were in the TV world, they would need to get out, and quickly. But how had someone discovered that they could use the TV world for their ends here, in Tokyo? When her work had led her around Japan she had tried looking into TVs at midnight on rainy days and had seen nothing, and those still in Inaba had reported that one day they suddenly couldn’t enter the TV in Junes, like the power had simply been taken from them.

But what if the ability to enter the TV had been tied not to a place or an event, but a person? What if that person had left Inaba behind and had arrived in Tokyo instead?

And, more importantly, did this mean that there had been another culprit alongside Namatame that they had failed to apprehend five years ago?

She recalled the day after Nanako’s recovery as clearly as if it were yesterday: standing in the cold outside Aiya, trying to work out what clue she had missed, why something still felt wrong even though Namatame was now in custody. Yu had told her she was overthinking and led them back inside, but what if she hadn’t been? What if she had been on the cusp of a breakthrough, and the dismissal by the senpai she had respected so much had snatched away the truth that had been dangling before her? The same senpai who had seemed to drop them all as soon as he was back in the city, not answering their texts and seeming content to pretend that the entire crazy year had never happened...

“I am willing to work together with you and your team to save them,” she said, and watched Rise smile widely out of the corner of her eye. “But I require more information first. I need you to tell me exactly what happened to Haru Okumura, and I want to meet with your team in an official capacity in order to gauge your sincerity.” She turned to Rise more fully. “Have you tried to contact any other members of our team?”

Rise’s smile dropped a little. “Yosuke and Yukiko don’t think they can get someone to cover their shifts on such short notice, but they’re going to try to get to Tokyo as fast as they can. Chie thinks she can fake a family emergency to get out of the police academy training, so she's working on that. Senpai-” She paused, grimacing. “I left a message on Yu’s phone, told him what’s going on and gave him our address again, but...”

Naoto nodded, sparing Rise from finishing. They all knew that the likelihood that Yu would even listen to the message was slim.

She’d tried to track down their leader many times, just to talk and reminisce, but he seemed to disappear as soon as she thought that she knew where he was. There had been a disturbing pattern of strange crimes in places where she had figured out he was staying, and she had convinced herself that he was trying to stay off the grid because he was trying to solve them, and not because he was hiding from her.

Now, with this new information, she wasn’t so sure.

“So it’s possible that it will just be the three of us,” she concluded, and the others nodded. That wasn’t the best case scenario – none of them were healers, after all – but having Rise as their navigator was certainly a bonus. She and Kanji would just have to be careful with their Personas, use more stealth than they were used to, and hope that if Morgana was telling the truth and the Phantom Thieves weren’t enemies, and that their Personas worked in the TV world. That was a lot of trust to put into strangers, but their options were limited enough as is.

Nodding to herself, she turned back to Morgana, and moved to take a seat on the armchair beside him. She was thankful that she hadn’t left her bag in the hall as she pulled it across her lap and drew out her notebook and pen, opening it to a new page.

“Tell me everything you know about the disappearances of Haru Okumura and Goro Akechi,” Naoto said, and Morgana began to speak.

*

The Phantom Thieves stepped into the spaceport once more, but the environment had changed. The pale blue lights illuminating the darkness of space around them were replaced by flashing red security lights, and the klaxon that had started blaring when Ren had started shooting the cognitions was wailing just as loud as last time they were here.

“Well,” Makoto said with forced cheer, looking around the red-lit spaceport, “it looks like we had an effect on his cognition, at least.”

Ren glanced toward the elevator, noting that it didn’t seem to be locked or otherwise tampered with, and turned to his gathered team.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, and they all piled into the elevator as one and descended into the bowels of the spaceship.

The corridors that they stepped out in were also bathed in flashing red light and the blaring klaxon, yet they were still as empty as they were the previous day. As they crept across the walkways Ren chanced a glance downward, where the cognitions had been working themselves to death, and frowned slightly when he noticed that now the work floor was quiet, lacking a single cognition running around. They stepped deeper into the facility quietly, and made their way into the room with the UFO hologram and the locked door.

The room that they emerged in, so barren and empty when they had set foot in only yesterday, was now filled with robotic guards, dark shadows swirling around their feet. They were all lined up in precise rows, the weaker red and green cognitions flanking the Shadows and the hulking black robots standing behind them, making a wall of enemies that the Phantom Thieves all simultaneously recoiled at. They’d faced lots of enemies before, but never had a veritable _army_ staring them down.

Ren kept his face neutral, planting his feet and raising his chin as he stood slightly in front of the rest of his team, looking out at the rows of enemies before them. They were all stood to attention, undoubtedly waiting for the order to strike, but they were not moving yet. Clearly the orders weren’t to kill on sight, which meant that they still had time.

They still had a chance to get what they needed and get out.

“Are you willing to negotiate with us now, Okumura?” he called, and while some of the machines shifted into what looked like more battle-ready poses, none of them moved to attack.

“I do not negotiate with thieves!” a shrill voice, slightly muffled as though it came from behind glass, rang out through the hall, and Joker watched with a grim satisfaction as the robots parted, leaving a long path through their ranks for their leader to walk through.

The Palace ruler was dressed in a black spacesuit, a cape billowing out behind him, and his skin was blue behind his large, fishbowl helmet. Yellow eyes flashed with suspicion and anger behind his glasses. He stopped a few feet away from Ren, some smaller Shadows standing slightly in front of him, ready to be used as protection if necessary.

“You have taken property of Okumura Foods!” he sneered. “Return my daughter to me at once!”

“Your child is not your property!” Yusuke retorted, and while Ren agreed entirely he held up a hand to keep the rest of his team quiet as he looked in Okumura’s face.

“We did not take your daughter,” Ren told him, and Okumura’s lip curled in obvious distaste. “But we think we know who did.” He lifted his chin a little. “I think your little friend Black Mask isn’t following your orders anymore.”

“Black Mask?” Okumura repeated, snarling the words. “I heard you wreaking havoc in my business yesterday – is this your pitiful attempt to gather information?” His fingers curled into fists as he glared at Joker. “That pitiful blackguard wouldn’t _dare_ take my property. He knows his place.”

“So you know him?” Ren pressed, and Okumura scoffed.

“Know him? I owned him, but now he no longer comes when I call. The sanctimonious little shit was always stepping into _my_ domain, getting his grubby hands all over my property, but now...” His expression was dripping with fury. “It seems that some people are incapable of following orders, even when cooperation directly benefits them.”

“So you hired Black Mask to get rid of your opponents,” Ren summarised.

“I used Black Mask and his master to further my own ambitions, and what did I get for it? Incompetent police knocking at my door and a missing child!” He was practically trembling with rage, and Ren guessed that it would only be a matter of time before he started demanding his gathered forces attack the Phantom Thieves just to soothe his ego.

“We want to save your daughter,” Ren told him. “But we need information about the Black Mask in order to find where he’s taken her and stop him.”

“Information that you’ll use to ransack my domain and steal my heart?” he sneered. “I know all about you disgusting thieves. You have no honour, no respect for authority or my utopia-”

“But we care about justice,” Ren answered, unwavering. “We will not stand by as an innocent suffers.”

Okumura’s Shadow watched him, and Ren could see the consideration beginning to shine in his eyes. Regardless of their reputation, Ren was certain that Okumura only saw the Phantom Thieves as one thing – children. Children who could be an inconvenience to individuals lesser than him, but who were incapable of pulling the wool over his eyes. He glanced just over Okumura’s shoulder and saw that while the door that had previously been closed was now guarded by dozens of Shadows, it was also standing open. He let his gaze fall back on Okumura and watched him unflinchingly.

“We have no need to target you,” Ren said, and could feel his team’s surprise at that. “Our target is the one who failed you. If you provide us with information, then we can defeat your enemy and you would not need to lift a finger.”

Okumura’s Shadow stared for a moment longer, the golden eyes glittering at the prospect. Ren was well-aware of how good of a deal it was – a potential foe willing to join forces to take down a mutual enemy? Kunikazu Okumura may be immoral and cruel to his employees, but he was genuinely a shrewd businessman. Even if he suspected that Ren’s offer wasn’t entirely genuine, it still wasn’t in his best interests to turn him down.

“Overcome failure at any cost, even if it means betraying others,” Okumura’s Shadow mused, and nodded to himself. “Very well, thief. Leave my domain and never return, and I will provide you the name of Black Mask’s master. If he has turned on me, I see no value in keeping up my side of the deal.”

“We will,” Ren promised easily, biting back a grin. This was it. This was what they’d been waiting for.

“Masayoshi Shido,” Okumura’s Shadow stated. “Ask him about the Black Mask, and get out of my sight.”

“Thank you,” Ren said, and he took a step back, away from Okumura. The name itched at the back of his mind, sounding familiar somehow, but he pushed that aside. He glanced over his shoulder at his gathered team. “Let’s go.”

None of his team looked particularly happy with his choice, but none of them argued as Ren openly turned his back on the enemy and walked back the way he came. He tensed a little as he walked away, half-expecting an enemy to strike after Okumura’s comment about the benefits of betrayal, but no knife or gunshot struck his exposed back as he made his way back toward the elevator.

“Joker,” Makoto whispered as they passed the walkways. “I’m not sure about this. By agreeing to cooperate with Okumura’s Shadow, this could have an effect on his cognition and embolden him in the real world – he could be even worse to his employees now that he thinks he has our support.”

It was a valid concern, but only a temporary one. “We have the name of the man behind the mask,” he reminded her. “We can find him, and from there we can find out where Black Mask is keeping Akechi and Okumura’s daughter.” Makoto didn’t look particularly encouraged. “Morgana might be back by now too,” he added.

“Once we save them both we’ll be coming back here to take down Okumura, right?” Ryuji pressed, bouncing his bat against his shoulder in agitation, and Ren nodded.

“Right. We’ll clear our names and fight for justice.”

Makoto seemed a little pacified by that, and none of the Phantom Thieves argued with him before they transported themselves back to the real world.

Before Ren tucked away his phone and the Metaverse navigator app, he offered it the name that Okumura had given him.

“Masayoshi Shido.”

<i>“Candidate found.”</i>

Well, that made things a little easier. It may not have been the name of Black Mask, as Persona-users didn’t have Palaces, but it was a valid starting point. It seemed like Okumura hadn’t lied to them, at least not yet.

“Tonight and tomorrow we should try to work out his keywords,” Ren said to the gathered Thieves. “If Morgana comes home, we can think about infiltrating the TV world. Later, we should all take a vote to decide whether we prioritise Shido or the TV world… with or without Morgana.” The rest of the Thieves had the same pale, uneasy look that they had worn before they’d stepped into Okumura’s Palace, and while all of them nodded in agreement with Ren’s suggestion he got the impression that none of them were particularly happy at their options. Still, he had to hear them say it. “Is this okay with everyone?”

“Sure, leader,” Ryuji said first, and the rest nodded.

“We will need to get to the bottom of this quickly,” Makoto said, voice tight, “but I agree, this seems like the best course of action for us at the moment.”

“Time to figure out the keywords!” Futaba exclaimed, punching the air with much more enthusiasm than the rest of the Phantom Thieves seemed capable of providing. “Now let’s make like a tree and leave!”

*

Sae had been on the phone with Kunikazu Okumura’s secretary for the last half an hour, and while the woman on the other end of the line was growing increasingly distressed Sae’s rage was only building.

_“I don’t know what else I can say, Niijima-san,”_ the secretary whimpered. _“Okumura-san is refusing to communicate with you or any member of the Tokyo police department regarding any incidents that may or may not have occurred-”_

“Stop with the nonsense!” Sae barked, slamming her hand on her desk and clinging hard to the wood. “It was Haru Okumura who appeared on the television set with Akechi-kun! She must be being held at the same location – I was there _yesterday_ , so who else entered the building once I left?”

_“T-that isn’t information that Okumura-san is willing to share with the police,”_ the secretary continued, and Sae had to stop herself from screaming down the phone in frustration. _“I’m sorry, Niijima-san, but I cannot help you."_

“Does he want what happened to Akechi to happen to his daughter?” she snarled. “Does he want to see her beaten and abused because he refuses to act?”

The secretary continued to spout worthless statements about how Okumura wouldn’t change his mind or give a statement to the police, and Sae decided to switch tactic before she wasted even more time.

“My colleague was attacked by an animal on Okumura’s property yesterday,” she hissed. “If he doesn’t answer our questions regarding his daughter’s disappearance, then we will press charges.”

_"Okumura-san does not have any pets,”_ the secretary answered, and Sae glared at the phone.

“So it was just a random cat that mauled my colleague, then?”

_“There are no cats in the Okumura home-”_

The conversation continued in a similar vein until finally Sae accepted that she was merely wasting her time and hung up, turning to the colleagues who were pretending that they weren’t listening in on her call.

“Find something in Okumura’s accounts to nail him with,” she demanded, tossing her phone onto her desk and unlocking her computer screen. “If we can get him for something, then he won’t be able to refuse our requests for information.”

The other officers looked a little perturbed by her orders, but she ignored them completely and pulled up the CCTV of the lobby in Akechi’s apartment building once more. Okumura may not consent to give them any spoken testimony that could help his daughter, but he had no say over the traffic cameras near his home. If she could find some commonality, some person who had been in proximity to both Akechi and Okumura’s residence… if she could find something linking them both, then this entire case would unravel.

There had to be something – she had literally seen Haru Okumura hours before her disappearance, and despite their name these ‘Phantom Thieves’ surely couldn’t slip unnoticed in and out of their victims’ homes. There were no calling cards in Akechi’s apartment, but she wouldn’t be able to say the same about the Okumuras until the father let her and her team back into their home. But still, a kidnapping that was so blatant couldn’t be ignored.

It was a shame that her team was one man down, the detective Adachi needing to be taken to the emergency room after limping back to their car with bits of his leg and hand gouged out by an overly vicious cat. She’d been forced to let him take some time off to rest and recover, but had already decided that if no substantial progress was made over the next two days she would demand him to come back in regardless. He didn’t need both hands to operate a phone or scroll through CCTV footage anyway.

Sae had a list of the building’s occupants and frequent visitors that she had compared with the individuals walking in and out of the lobby, but even as she kept her eyes glued to the screen as she sped through days’ worth of footage she still could see nothing amiss. And then Akechi stepped out of the front doors on the morning of the nineteenth of August, familiar case in one hand and bicycle helmet tucked under his arm, striding purposefully out of the building and did not return.

Wait.

She paused the footage, staring at that tiny detail that she hadn’t so much as blinked at initially.

A bicycle helmet. He must have cycled to work that morning.

She clicked out of the CCTV footage, pulling up images of Akechi’s ruined apartment instead. She remembered an inane comment of his that he’d said not long after Kaneshiro’s change of heart – a concern that he might have to start keeping his bike in his apartment proper instead of in the shared storage in his building, to avoid any potential vandalism. He’d expressed some vague annoyance at having to make sure the wheels were clean, to avoid tracking mud or dirt into his home. She hadn’t cared at the time, barking at him that he could just take the train like everyone else if he was so worried, but now it felt like a lifeline.

And, as she looked at the photographs taken by forensics, there was indeed no sign of a bicycle anywhere in Akechi’s apartment. No fresh dirt on the floor that would suggest a bicycle’s recent use, either.

Then there was Watanabe’s idle comment the other day: ‘it almost sounds like he wasn’t taken from his apartment at all’.

She pushed away from her desk, a possibility pushing itself to the forefront of her mind. She had seen Akechi’s bike before – in the past, before her workload became almost unmanageable and before Akechi’s fame had skyrocketed, he’d pushed it along as they had walked to a sushi restaurant together. The memory had a tinge of guilt to it now; the protective instinct that had made her so determined to keep Makoto safe from the wickedness of the world had grabbed her by the throat at the sight of this scrawny teenager in clothes much too old for him, telling her that here was another kid that she had to help, but that same instinct had been suffocated by her raging injustice at her circumstances and the world around her.

How long had it been since she had wanted to spend any time with Akechi for its own sake, rather than out of obligation? How long had it been since she’d wanted to spend time with _Makoto?_ She didn’t even know where Makoto was, where she had gone after she had thrown her out on the street without considering the consequences, without considering how dangerous various districts of Tokyo had become for vulnerable, naive young women.

How long had it been since she had felt anything but resentment and disdain for the two children who had been the only things she had wanted to protect?

She pushed such thoughts down, striding out of her office and heading to the elevator, ignoring her colleagues’ questioning stares. She would have to contact Makoto later, but it was unlikely that her sister was in danger. Akechi, on the other hand, had almost been missing for a month at this point.

She emerged in the secure parking lot at the very bottom of the police building, striding past the gathered vehicles and heading straight toward the closed bicycle shed tucked away at the back, away from the cars and near the motorcycles. She tugged open the door easily, and scanned the gathered bicycles until her gaze fell on a silver model padlocked at the far end, a familiar helmet dangling from the handlebars. She took a step closer, just to make sure, and searched for the scuff marks that were so clear in her memory.

It was unmistakable. Akechi’s bicycle was still in the police station, gathering dust. So either he had forgotten that he had cycled to work and taken the train back to his apartment…

...or he had never made it out of the building.

She had never even considered the possibility that he could have been taken from the police department itself. Such a feat should have been impossible. But still she had allowed this evidence to sit here, unnoticed, for almost a month.

Setting her jaw, Sae lifted her phone and took photographs of Akechi’s bicycle, preparing to add this to her folder of evidence. Once she was finished she closed the door behind her again and made her way back to her office, unlocking her computer once more.

The screen was still showing the CCTV camera footage of the lobby, although the feed had continued in her absence. The increased speed meant that the screen was up to the day when his disappearance had been discovered, and sure enough she saw the detective Adachi making his way across the lobby.

And then there was nothing.

As time dragged on and there was no sign of herself or the other officers who had arrived to answer Adachi’s call, she found herself frowning and rewinding the footage to the exact moment he’d stepped through the doors, making a note of the timestamp. Then she sped it forward until she reached the moment when the other officers showed up, making a note of that timestamp. It was well over an hour before backup arrived, despite Sae knowing full well that it took them less than half an hour to make it to Akechi’s building.

She clicked open the incident report, and leaned back in her chair as the document on the screen told her that Adachi had made the call almost forty-five minutes after the cameras showed him setting foot in Akechi’s building. What could he possibly have been doing between stepping into the room and reporting the damage? He already had the spare key at that point, he should have literally opened the door and called the precinct. In fact, that was exactly what his statement said he had done – so why did he lie? Why did he lie to the police force he was a part of?

_Forty-five minutes is long enough to have ransacked his apartment,_ she thought. _Forensics reported that the only prints and DNA evidence were from Akechi and officers who were on the scene – that includes Adachi._

The Phantom Thieves were still the priority, especially as the vast majority of the evidence was pointing in their direction. But as soon as she had the time, she would need to talk to Adachi and ask him some very serious questions about his movements on that day – and the day that Akechi vanished.

*

Goro awoke on the floor, his legs elevated, and slowly being dragged along. He craned his neck, eyes narrowing at Teddie as he spotted the bear with both his paws snagged around his ankles, dragging him along the floor.

“Teddie,” Goro said sharply, and the bear let him go with a jolt.

“Ahhh! You startled me, Grr-o!”

Teddie planted a paw over his chest, like he was trying to catch his breath, and Goro used his momentary pause to climb to his feet, looking around himself. The scenery had changed once more, the familiar walls of his old apartment replaced with open red brickwork and enormous stained glass windows depicting bright flowers. It was completely unrecognisable from what it had been, and didn’t seem to reflect anything relevant to his own life.

“Where are we?” he demanded. Teddie had said that someone else was in here, and his own Shadow had claimed that they were trying to steal his spotlight… was this the doing of whoever else had ended up in the TV world?

“We’re on the bottom floor,” Teddie told him, “but the layout has changed! The way out should have been right here, but instead it looks like we’re in the middle of another TV world!” His ears twitched. “I think the new person is just a little further in!”

Goro ground his teeth together. Was this new person’s world really attached to his, or had Teddie just dragged him in here rather than taken him to the exit, because he thought he needed the help?

“And how many floors until the exit now?” he asked, voice perfectly polite and even as it’s pushed past his gritted teeth.

“I don’t know,” Teddie confessed, utterly useless. “I guess we just have to keep going!”

“And if we happen to stumble upon the other person in here, or their Shadow?”

Teddie’s expression brightened. “Then we can help them, too!”

Of course they could. Goro didn’t know why he had expected anything different. He had half a mind to turn around and head back toward whatever door Teddie had already dragged him through, searching for the exit, but he decided it wasn’t yet worth it. They’d find a staircase sooner or later, and if it headed downward like the others, then it was likely that this area had simply latched onto his own, like Teddie had said.

But then, where was his own Shadow? Once again it didn’t seem to be anywhere nearby, but was that because the environment had changed to something that was no longer solely Goro’s? Was it solely bound to a location that reflected itself, and was now trapped somewhere behind them, in the areas they had now passed? Or had it sought out the new ‘guest’ to this strange realm, like it had sought out Teddie, ignoring the pair of them in favour of someone who may give it the attention and affection that it craved? And if this new unlucky resident of the TV world had their own Shadow, how would that impact his own?

In all of his time exploring the Metaverse, Goro had never heard of a Palace with two rulers. In fact, having two Shadows from separate individuals in close proximity to one another seemed like a terrible idea – Shadows on a whole were vicious, possessive, territorial, and insufferably full of themselves. There was a chance that the stranger’s Shadow may appeal to his own; if the stranger’s Shadow was lying and manipulative and willing to provide whatever praise was necessary to achieve its own goals, then it may sate his own Shadow’s desperate need for affection. But if their insecurities were incompatible, their worst traits exacerbated by proximity… then it would be a recipe for disaster. He’d have to find his Shadow and accept it before it decided to tear itself or this world apart.

The two of them began walking through the new corridors, Goro drinking in the changed sights now that he could see them clearly through his glasses. There were still spotlights and boom mics hanging overhead, just out of reach, like there had been in his own areas, but this ‘set’ looked a lot less personal than his own had been. The television studio, the cognitive psience lab and his old apartment had been obvious reflections of locations from his own life, but this hallway he was walking through, with old redbrick walls interspersed with stained glass, pale candles held in glittering golden sconces and pale tiled floor, didn’t seem to resemble any personal location.

It was more like a projection, the individual’s perception of what the world around them was like – more like how a Palace was. But what was it even supposed to be? A cathedral, a castle? Something else entirely?

He crept through the halls, the tiles cold beneath his bare feet, and as he moved he realised that this area definitely felt a lot colder than his own sets had felt. He’d barely noticed a difference after losing his blazer and shoes when he had been on his own set, but here the cold was enough to raise goosebumps on his arms. Was it the stranger’s perception of their world as a cold place, or was the cold a side effect of him being deep inside someone else’s head without his own Personas to protect him?

Eventually they came upon a door, and the doors here were different to the ones previously – instead of a steel door with a push bar like the ones in a television studio, these doors were pale sliding doors that looked like they would lead into a bedroom. The only thing that marked them as different was a keyhole set in the far side, like the doors were locked.

_Who has the key?_ Goro wondered as he eyed it. _The person whose door this is, or someone else?_

Teddie didn’t hesitate before grasping the door and sliding it open, and he punched the air in victory when it led to a room with a staircase sloping downward. That at least was a point in the bear’s favour, suggesting that he hadn’t lied about the areas being connected.

“Shall we?” Goro suggested before beginning to descend the stairs, hearing Teddie following after him.

If he was correct, then at the bottom of the staircase would be- yes. At the foot of the stairs was a pair of expensive looking leather couches, in complete juxtaposition to the almost medieval interior, and an enormous television screen that could neither be scaled or passed around, just as before. There was some grim satisfaction at the thought that it would no longer be his own memories on display for strangers to see and Shadows to comment on.

He sat down, taking the left couch and Teddie taking the right as usual, and waited to see what surprises would await him on the screen.

He cursed quietly at the familiar sneering face of Kunikazu Okumura staring back at him.

“I do not have the time to entertain your petty rebelliousness, Haru,” he sneered down at the camera. He was sitting at one end of a long table draped in an embroidered white tablecloth, three sets of cutlery in front of him, and as the camera looked down Goro saw a medium-rare steak surrounded by delicately cooked vegetables, looking like something out of an expensive restaurant. Small hands with manicured nails painted an inoffensive peach were clutching a fork tight enough for the knuckles to shine white.

“I’m sorry,” an almost painfully high female voice whispered. “I’m… I’m not trying to question you, father, it’s just that I’ve spent so little time around Sugimura-kun, a-and-”

“And he disgusts me,” the same voice said in an abruptly lower tone, dripping with rage. “I’ve seen the way he looks at me, the way he looks at women. I want to tear out his eyes.”

“You are aware that in many arranged marriages the bride and groom only meet on the wedding day, are you not?” Okumura interrupted, tone scathing, as Goro tried to reconcile the timid voice with the violent one. “I was doing you a kindness by allowing you to meet, to get to know each other before the union.”

“I, I understand that,” she replied, voice quiet and shaky. “But… but I don’t see how our marriage will bring you any benefit-”

“Are you a businesswoman now, Haru? Do you have a business degree, let alone any experience in the real world?”

The camera’s focus returned to the table. “No, father.”

“I didn’t think so. You need not concern yourself with matters beyond your understanding.”

Silence once more, as ‘Haru’ began to poke at her expertly cooked food.

“He doesn’t see me as a person,” the more aggressive voice seethed. “Only as a doll, a pawn to move as he pleases. My life is absolutely nothing to him.”

After a painfully long moment, Okumura sighed and lowered his fork, glancing up from his food to give the camera an unimpressed look.

“Your union with Sugimura-kun will link our families politically,” he stated. “The Sugimura family will provide invaluable support in my foray into politics, and allow me to stand against those who would otherwise rise uncontested.”

A surprised laugh burst from Goro’s chest before he could smother it, just as the woman’s voice sneered ‘do you think I give a shit about your political aspirations?’ He could feel Teddie glancing toward him, but he didn’t care.

_This_ was Okumura’s grand plan? Get some slimy rich parasite on side by selling his own daughter, and paint a target on his back by daring to think he could stand against Shido? Shido was already planning to dispose of him after one too many mental shutdowns – Goro would have been knocking on his Palace’s door by the end of October if he hadn’t been thrown in here.

He’d already spent time in the spaceport, making his presence known and letting the threat of his appearance sink into the man’s cognition. He’d overheard the man’s Shadow crowing about his intentions to turn on Shido and run for office despite the sheer stupidity of such a plan; he’d laughed about it with Shido himself in his office. Okumura was a dead man walking, had been ever since he had entertained the notion of undermining Shido, but apparently he was more than happy to ruin his daughter’s future along the way.

It seemed not even spoiled rich girls could escape from having a piece of shit as a father.

The screen switched itself off without a fuss, sinking deep into the floor and revealing the path forward just as it had before, and as Goro climbed to his feet he mulled over what he had seen on the screen. He had never given much thought to Okumura’s daughter – he hadn’t given Okumura himself much thought outside of how best to end him when the time came – but he never would have expected to hear that family name here. But if he got out with Okumura’s daughter, maybe that could work in his favour somehow.

Maybe he could even have a word with the man himself about how foolish his power grab was, and give his Shadow some brutal encouragement to drop the arranged marriage before his untimely death, seeing as it would make no difference. Maybe he could spare his daughter from being yet another child used and thrown aside by pathetic, selfish adults. And maybe if he got this Sugimura’s full name then he could pay him a visit too, and teach him a painful lesson in not treating women in the same despicable way that Shido did.

But before he could commit himself to involving himself in family drama that had nothing to do with him, he needed to get out of here. He carried on moving, stepping deeper into the strange castle/tower/cathedral with Teddie at his heels, and wondered just how long it would take until he stumbled across Haru Okumura.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana comes home, and two Shadows meet.

The walk back to Leblanc was almost painfully quiet without Morgana, but it did give Ren some time to think. 

They were making progress – Okumura’s Shadow had given them the name of the person behind the Black Mask, and even though Morgana had yet to return it was likely that when he did he would have the information they needed. But even if they did manage to find a way to Black Mask, what could they do once they cornered him? Morgana had told them that Persona-users didn’t have Palaces, so they’d have to either confront him in the real world, or lure him somewhere in the Metaverse. 

It would have to be in the Metaverse, he realised quickly. It was far too dangerous to confront the Metaverse killer in the real world, where he would see their faces without masks and know their identities. If the Black Mask saw no problem with killing people in the Metaverse, what would stop them from hunting down the Phantom Thieves in the real one if they were cornered? No, it would have to be in the Metaverse. 

Besides, if the Black Mask was working alone, then the combined might of the seven Phantom Thieves could be enough to defeat them. But even if they did defeat them, what could they do to permanently stop them? The Phantom Thieves didn’t kill, but Ren seriously doubted that just beating them up in the Metaverse would be enough to get them to change their ways and stop murdering people without an accompanying change of heart. But maybe they could somehow convince them that they’re on the wrong side, that the Phantom Thieves are the ones who will end up victorious – maybe by stealing the heart of the Black Mask’s employer they could convince him to stop using the Metaverse? It was a long shot, but it was all they could do if stealing his heart wasn’t an option. 

Ren pushed open the door to Leblanc, a little surprised to see that Sojiro was still there, and his eyes immediately landed on the young woman sitting on a stool, one arm propped up on the counter as she chatted cheerfully to Sojiro. The older man looked a little starstruck, rubbing at the back of his neck and not even seeming to notice Ren’s return, but the woman was still talking with a vaguely familiar, bubbly voice. 

“But seriously, this place is wonderful! I’ll tell all of my fans about it!”

“Well, if they’re all as polite and well-mannered as you I’ll welcome them all,” Sojiro replied with a smile, and Ren shuffled a little awkwardly in the doorway when suddenly the black lump on her lap that he had assumed was her bag lifted its head, turning bright blue eyes on him, and he gave a sharp gasp. 

“Joker!” Morgana exclaimed, and the woman lifted her arms and glanced over just in time to avoid a collision as Morgana leapt from her lap and into Ren’s arms. Ren caught him expertly but Morgana still made a pained hiss, and Ren tensed. 

“Mona, are you okay?” he asked quietly, and the other occupants of the cafe finally looked over to him. 

“Ah, you’re back,” Sojiro said, sounding almost surprised. “Look who came home today – this lovely lady apparently found him in the street and brought him back here.”

“He’s a really smart kitty,” the woman said, smiling brightly. “He knew exactly where to go!”

“She can hear me!” Morgana said in a rush, and Ren’s eyes widened. “She’s a Persona-user too, she knows all about the TV world!”

Ren glanced up at her, taking in her smile and trying to read any duplicity or cruelty in it, but she only looked genuine. He felt some strange pull around her, similar to what he felt around his arcana but different, and some familiarity at the sight of her face. _She looks like an idol,_ he realised, and as he took in her hair he realised with a jolt that this might somehow be Rise Kujikawa. The innocent poster in his room suddenly felt a lot weirder than it had five minutes ago. 

“Well, all’s well that ends well!” probably-Rise said, stepping off of her stool as Morgana scrambled up Ren’s arm and hopped back into the bag. “I’d better head back, but thank you so much for the coffee! Oh-” She paused, her brow furrowing and biting her lower lip, “-um, actually, would it be okay if I asked your part-timer to walk me back to the station? I’m not too used to Yongen, I don’t want to get lost-”

“Oh, of course not,” Sojiro answered for him, and he levelled Ren with a serious look. “You make sure she gets to the station safe and sound, got it?” 

Feeling like this was a massive set-up that he’d just stumbled into, Ren had no choice but to nod even as Rise clapped her hands together. 

“Oh, thank you so much! I’ll be back!”

She hoisted her actual bag onto her shoulder – a small cream and gold thing that shimmered under the lights – and she waved goodbye to Sojiro before stepping out of the door, Ren at her heels. She only took a few steps away from the cafe before turning to face Ren, her expression changing to something serious. 

“Morgana said that the laundromat might be a quiet place for us to discuss things,” she said. “Is that okay with you?”

Ren nodded, eyeing Rise with growing trepidation, but Morgana’s weight on his shoulder was comforting. Even if Morgana was still angry with the Phantom Thieves, Ren didn’t think he would do anything to put him or the team in danger. 

He followed her into the laundromat, but paused in the doorway when he caught sight of two people already there – a short woman with navy blue hair in a baby blue button-up shirt and dark high-waisted trousers, and a man with dark hair and glasses and a hoodie hunched over on the chair, some sort of box in his lap. Both of them looked up at their entrance, eyes barely alighting on Rise before falling solely on Ren. 

“Joker, I presume?” the woman asked, and at his nod she gave a short, polite bow. “Your friend Morgana told us your codename, and in the interest of privacy we will not ask your real name at this time. However, this will change if you or your team proves to be dangerous.” She paused at that, and Ren supposed that considering the circumstances that was a pretty generous offer. “I’m certain she has already introduced herself, but yes, that is Rise Kujikawa.”

“Morgana told me you were a fan,” Rise said with a smile in her voice, twirling a lock of hair like Ann frequently did. The other woman didn’t look particularly impressed, and Ren tried to stop an embarrassed flush creeping up his skin. 

“...Regardless,” the other woman continued, “My name is Naoto Shirogane. I am currently a private investigator, but you may recall me being referred to as the ‘first detective prince’.”

Ren stared at her. He’d heard of Akechi being referred to as the ‘second’ detective prince, but he’d never so much as looked up the name of his predecessor. He glanced between the two celebrities at either side of him before his gaze fell on the man sitting down, wondering if he was also famous in some way. The man looked a little surprised at the scrutiny, and adjusted his glasses. 

“Uh, Kanji Tatsumi,” he greeted, bowing his head slightly and popping open the box in his lap. “I brought cookies.” 

Rise giggled, but Naoto’s expression didn’t so much as twitch. 

“Before I say anything more, I must establish some key facts,” Naoto said, folding her arms and leaning her weight on one leg as she regarded Ren seriously. “Joker. Is any member of the Phantom Thieves responsible for pushing Goro Akechi or Haru Okumura into the television world, intentionally or otherwise?” 

“No,” Ren said without hesitation. “We’ve been trying to figure out what happened to Akechi for weeks.”

Shirogane observed him for a moment longer, seemingly filing his reaction away somewhere in her mind. Her silent gaze was severe, cold and analysing where her successor had seemingly done everything to appear warm and inviting.

“What about Haru Okumura?” she pressed instead. “I assume it was your group who hacked the computers of Okumura Foods Corporate Headquarters?”

There was a sinking feeling in Ren’s gut at the revelation that they all knew about that, and the implication that the news had reported their rash action, but he kept his face perfectly blank and neutral, a mirror of Shirogane’s.

“It was,” Ren answered. Now wasn’t the time to lie to these people. “We thought Kunikazu Okumura was responsible for Akechi’s disappearance, and his cognition was blocking our infiltration of his Palace, so we had to do something to convince him that we could bypass his security.” Tatsumi looked lost, but Shirogane’s eyes had narrowed a fraction, and Ren belatedly realised how little his explanation actually helped prove their innocence. “We just hacked the computers. We don’t hurt people. Not our targets, and not their families.” 

Shirogane watched him for a moment longer, as though she was gauging his sincerity, and Ren held her gaze without backing down. After what felt like an eternity, Shirogane nodded. 

“Very well,” she replied. She flashed a tiny smile, bowing her head slightly, like her hypothesis had been proven correct. “The use of the television world seemed incompatible with your group’s MO, but I am glad to hear that you have not been recklessly testing the limits of the world since its discovery.” 

Ren glanced over to Morgana, but Shirogane was straightening again, her expression smoothing back into professionalism. 

“The three of us are members of an investigation team that was established five years ago with the intention of uncovering the truth behind a series of bizarre murders in a small town. We awakened to our Personas after being thrown into the television world, and we caught the culprit responsible for kidnapping us and our friends and casting us into the television world.” Her face grew pinched. “However, taking into account this new evidence and his testimony, it seems that he was not the _true_ culprit. It is likely that he was tricked into his actions by the individual who actually killed the first two victims. And it is also likely that the true culprit has recently arrived in Tokyo, and intends to kill again in a place where they are unlikely to be stopped.”

“But we’re gonna stop them,” Kanji said with certainty, and Shirogane nodded. 

“Yes. However, the circumstances here in Tokyo are different from the ones in Inaba.” She held out a hand, listing them on her fingers. “In Inaba, we had a consistent entry point that we knew led to a stable exit. We had a guide who knew the TV world intimately. And we had a well-balanced team.” She dropped her hand. “Here, we would need to establish a reliable point of entry and secure an exit. Morgana said that he could exit the world at will, but that he emerged in a completely different location.”

“I didn’t leave in the same place where I came in, though,” Morgana added from the bag, and Shirogane looked up at him. “Maybe if we made sure we went back to the exact same place, like if we marked it, then we’d exit in the same place?” 

“Are you able to pull out multiple individuals at once?” she asked, and Morgana puffed up his chest a little. 

“Of course! I’ve pulled all of these guys back into the real world after pretty much every heist!” 

_But the Palaces were also collapsing at the same time,_ Ren didn’t add. 

“Well, then. That leads to our most salient point: our team, as it currently stands, consists of a navigator-” Rise waved “-and two heavy hitters. Kanji specialises in lightning and physical attacks as well as strength buffs, and while I do have some all-around coverage I specialise in bless and curse skills. Neither of us are healers, and if either of the Shadows specialise in, say, wind attacks, we would be in trouble.”

She paused. “Therefore, I suggest that we work together. We would provide our knowledge of the TV world as well as the strength of our Personas, and you provide your own strength as well as a stable exit, so that we can rescue both victims as quickly as possible. Morgana also claimed that he found the culprit’s ‘Palace’, and will be able to prevent further victims if your team clears it. Our collaboration would allow your team to clear your names, and we...” Her eyes flashed. “We can finally put this case to bed, and ensure that no more innocents suffer.”

Ren watched Shirogane for a moment longer, taking in her and her teammates’ determination. It was a good deal that she had offered them – it made sense to get the help of a team that had experience of this world that they didn’t. He hadn’t had the chance to question Morgana about the intricacies of the world yet, but additional firepower could always be helpful. Even if Ryuji covered a lot of the bases that Tatsumi did, even if with Futaba and Morgana they already had two navigators, it made sense to accept the deal and let them in. The three of them seemed genuine, seemed to want nothing more than to help save Akechi and Okumura’s daughter, their goals were aligned-

But it wasn’t just him he was putting at risk if these three turned out to be spies, or were just luring them into the TV world for their own ends. He had his team to consider, and besides-

“The Phantom Thieves only act if the vote is unanimous,” Ren told them. “I’ll discuss this with my team and give you our answer.”

The three of them looked a little disappointed, but Shirogane nodded first and pulled out a notebook, scribbling something on a page. 

“I understand, but we cannot afford to wait for your answer. I’ll give you my number – if you do not give us an answer within 24 hours then we will assume you are rejecting our offer and will have to take steps to rescue them ourselves.” She tore out the page and offered it to Ren. “Please respond as quickly as possible. I also must recommend that you do not attempt to enter the TV world without us – it is an incredibly dangerous place.” She bowed again. “Thank you for your time, Joker. We hope to hear from you and your team soon.”

Shirogane moved to leave, and Tatsumi scrambled to his feet after her. 

“Wait!” he called, and all of them froze. He offered the plastic tub that had so far gone untouched. “...Don’t any of you guys want cookies?” 

*

Once Ren and Morgana made it back to Leblanc (and Ren managed to answer or dodge as many of Sojiro’s questions about the abrupt appearance of the idol Rise Kujikawa in his business), Ren pulled out his phone and immediately messaged the group chat to let them know that Morgana had come home, and that he had established contact with another team of Persona-users. The other thieves were understandably shocked and impressed, but Ren was hesitant to share too much information over the phone.

“We should have a meeting tomorrow,” he said to Morgana, glancing at his teammate out of the corner of his eye. 

Morgana had taken up his usual spot at his side on the bed, but he seemed like he was holding himself incredibly still and tense, as though he was afraid to move and cause himself more pain. He’d said that he’d gotten hurt when he had tried to save Haru but hadn’t elaborated, although he’d made a point to proudly say that he’d managed to hurt the culprit too. But Morgana was still just as quiet as he had been in the days before he had jumped into the TV, when he had been stewing in his own insecurities, and Ren was getting increasingly concerned. 

“We need to tell the team everything, and decide whether to take the investigation team up on their offer,” Ren added, and Morgana nodded with a tiny wince but didn’t say anything. 

“...I was going to ask Ann if we could hold the meeting at her place,” Ren said, and Morgana’s head snapped up suddenly at the mention of Ann’s name. 

“We’re going to see Lady Ann’s place?” he asked, voice brightening, before he frowned. “Why?”

“Thought a change of scenery might be nice,” Ren said lightly, and when Morgana just blinked at him he changed tactic. “And Ann has the biggest TV. If we need to, we can get into the TV world from there.”

“Naoto didn’t want us to go into the TV world without them,” Morgana reminded him, and Ren nodded. 

“I wanted to ask the team first, but I think we should make sure that we can all get in and out before we start making plans. Make sure that we have a solid entry point, if we can’t use the Nav.” He watched Morgana closely. “What do you think? If you’re too hurt to go in there, we’ll wait.”

Morgana shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine. We need to save them fast.” He hesitated, but then he looked down and away. 

“What’s up?” Ren pushed, and Morgana sighed. 

“It’s just… _weird_ ,” Morgana grumbled. “I keep thinking about the guy who attacked Haru.”

“Black Mask?” Ren guessed, but Morgana shook his head. 

“That’s what’s weird. I was sure it was Black Mask – it’s definitely the same guy who attacked Akechi, and Akechi’s Shadow was in the TV, but I went into the guy’s Palace. If he has a Palace, then he can’t have Personas, so he can’t be the guy that Kaneshiro and Madarame were talking about, right?” His frown deepened. “But Akechi’s Shadow was talking about stuff that Black Mask had to have told him. He knew your codename, and he said… he said that the Black Mask didn’t have a guide to show them how to use the Metaverse properly.”

Ren’s brows pinched together in confusion. “So the guy who threw Akechi and Haru Okumura into the TV _wasn’t_ the Black Mask? But Akechi might know who the Black Mask is anyway?” 

“Yeah,” Morgana said with a nod. “But then who _is_ this guy? How does he know about the TV world and stuff like that if he doesn’t have a Persona? It just doesn’t make sense.”

Ren thought about it for a moment before he flopped back down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I suppose we’ll figure it out,” he said, although he found himself pulling a face at the vague promise. He looked over to Morgana, who’d stood up and was peering back at him. “We’ll meet up tomorrow, and we’ll start our infiltration,” he said instead, and vocalising the plan made it seem much more tangible and real. “We couldn’t do this without you, Mona.”

Morgana was still and quiet for a moment before he crept forward slowly, settling his weight on Ren’s chest and curling up into a tight ball. Ren gently placed a hand over his back, ready to pull it back at the first hint of discomfort, but Morgana didn’t flinch away. 

“I really wanted to save them,” he said softly. “But I… I can’t do it on my own. I know that now.”

“You don’t have to be alone,” Ren told him. “You’re the heart of the team, remember?”

Morgana nodded but didn’t answer, and Ren moved his hand softly to pet him. After a moment Morgana began to purr, and the two of them stayed like that for a long time.

*

The floors of Haru Okumura’s television world seemed larger than Goro’s, and were filled with rooms hidden by sliding doors. Most of the rooms contained glittering treasure chests that Teddie wasted the countless chest keys he had accumulated on, only to contain useless gold plates and soda cans that barely healed anything. Goro wondered if this was a reflection of Haru’s mindset somehow; beautiful, shining things holding nothing of value beneath. The consistently useless contents of the treasure chests still didn’t seem to stop Teddie from opening them, though. 

Goro’s own Shadow still hadn’t made a reappearance, but after the first floor had appeared to be mostly empty of enemies the new floor that the two of them found themselves on seemed to be full of Shadows crawling about. Battles were somewhat more difficult with Goro currently lacking a temporary Persona, leading to the debacle of Teddie attempting to be stealthy, but after being spotted for the third time and managing to take down some Shadows that looked like massive boulders wearing crowns for some reason, the TV world appeared to take pity on him and grant him a shuffle time. The empty space where his Personas should have been was temporarily filled by a Hariti, providing him with strong healing skills that all of his previous Personas had lacked. At least if a later battle left them weak, he’d be able to patch them up a little. 

But as they came across many empty rooms and prowling Shadows, Goro began to notice a pattern: the Shadows all seemed to be moving in the same direction, like they were being drawn to something. 

“Could they be drawn to Haru, or her Shadow?” he asked Teddie after they bypassed another Shadow and ended up at another dead end. 

The bear hummed, tapping a mitten paw against his chin. 

“They could be,” he allowed. “I can smell something beary strong a floor or so down, and weaker Shadows are drawn to strong ones, that’s why they end up in the same place. But big Shadows can absorb smaller ones to get stronger too, so weaklings should want to keep a bit of a distance.”

“What about my Shadow?” Goro wondered aloud as they turned around and kept moving. “Would my Shadow be drawn to another strong one, or hers to mine?” 

“I dunno,” Teddie began, and then a teasing edge crept into his voice. “Do you feel drawn to Haru-chan, Grr-o?”

Goro rolled his eyes. “I feel drawn to the exit, so I can get out of here as quickly as possible,” he answered. “But I get the impression that it would be dangerous for our Shadows to be in close proximity, and would like to be prepared if that’s the case.”

“They might try to eat each other,” Teddie said with unusual solemnity, and Goro found himself walking a little faster. “But maybe they haven’t found each other yet! Maybe we’ll manage to get to them first!”

Goro nodded, continuing to walk forward, but as he reached to open yet another sliding door he stumbled as a sharp, sudden pain ripped through his chest. He gasped, and on the edge of his mind he felt Hariti shifting, like whatever had struck him had affected her too. He blinked away dark spots that had began to crowd his vision, and pulled back his hand to rub at his chest instead, checking that there wasn’t a sudden hole carved over his heart. 

“Grr-o?” Teddie questioned, and Goro took a deep breath.

“I think something’s happening to my Shadow,” he guessed, and Teddie’s eyes widened. “We need to get to the next floor _now.”_

“R-right!” 

Goro staggered forward, the migraine that usually preceded unconsciousness beginning to prickle behind his eyes, but paused when the next door they came across didn’t lead to a staircase leading downward, but instead to an open gate decorated with thorny vines completely barren of roses. He could hear distorted laughter coming from within it, the same sort of sound that warped the voices of Shadows, and he gritted his teeth and kept moving. 

Teddie joined him at his side, watching him with open concern as they kept moving, but he froze at the same time Goro did when the scene in front of them became clear. 

Haru Okumura was kneeling on the floor of a round room that seemed to stretch upwards endlessly, the walls suddenly lacking any windows or doors, revealing itself to be a long, empty tower. Her back was to them but she was trembling, her fingers curled into desperate fists at her sides as she stared at the spectacle in the centre of the room. 

In the middle of the circular floor were their two Shadows. Goro recognised his own Shadow, beaten and bloody and grinning desperately, flat on its back with its chained arms spread as wide as they were able. Standing over him was a woman in a bloody wedding dress, the red staining the hem dripping onto his clothes, the stiletto heel of one white shoe driven deep into the flesh of his bare arm. She had an enormous double-headed axe positioned under his chin, and it would take only the tiniest of movements to sever his head clean off. 

Goro’s heart was in his throat – he was certain that even if it was at the hands of another Shadow, if his Shadow was murdered in the Metaverse it would kill him. 

“Stop,” Haru Okumura was sobbing, “please don’t do this, don’t-”

“Is this what it’ll take for you to love me?” Goro Akechi’s Shadow asked from the ground, and the Shadow of Haru Okumura bared her teeth viciously. 

“Stay away from me,” she snarled. “I will destroy any suitors who try to trade my freedom for a wedding band! I am free, I am my own person, and I refuse to give my life or my love to selfish men who only want me for their own ends!” 

“You don’t have to mean it,” Shadow Akechi said, trying to move closer to her and impaling his arm further on her heel, making another flash of pain shoot through Goro. As he lifted his head Goro saw he had a long, fresh gash across his cheek. “I’ll do anything for you if you’ll only say you love me.” His voice lowered to something conspiratorial. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take your hand. I’ll destroy all of your suitors myself – I’ll cut out Sugimura’s heart and bring it to you in a box.” The real Haru’s breath caught at the mention of her fiance as her Shadow stilled, and Goro realised that the knowledge he had gained from Haru’s television screen had passed on to his own Shadow. “I’ll break his mind so he will never look at you again, so you’ll always be free. Will that make you love me?” 

“Okumura-san,” Goro called from the entryway, and the real Haru spun around from her place on the ground and stared at him with wide, tear-reddened eyes. 

“A-Akechi-kun?” she stammered, gaze flicking between the Akechi looking at her to the one pinned on the ground and barely even landing on Teddie. “Please, what’s-”

“They are parts of us,” he said quickly, taking a step closer. “We can’t allow them to kill one another.”

Haru’s face grew even paler, and she glanced back toward the figure of herself in the wedding dress before she turned violently away, like she couldn’t bear to look at it for long. 

“N-no,” she said softly, “that’s not-”

“Suitors!” Haru’s Shadow screeched, finally moving the axe from the other Shadow’s throat as she turned blazing golden eyes on Goro and Teddie. “Stay away from me! I’ll kill you!” 

Goro held up his hands in what he hoped was a placating gesture. “I have no desire whatsoever to marry you, Okumura-san,” he told her, keeping his voice even, although his Shadow was reaching for her bloody skirts, expression crumbling now that the woman’s eyes weren’t on him. “I am no threat to you.”

“Then you want something else,” Haru’s Shadow snarled, raising the axe. “Everyone wants something from me, or something from my father through me! You say kind things to my face, but behind my back you are selfish and only seek to benefit yourself! You’re only talking to me because you want something from me!” She bared her teeth, her face twisting into something vicious and cruel and almost unrecognisable as the girl beside her. “I am not some pathetic doll to be used and tossed aside!”

“We aren’t here to use you!” Teddie insisted. “We’re here to save you!” 

The Shadow was shaking her head, and Haru lurched to her feet, trying to stand between the two of them. Before she could speak Goro shot forward, and the Shadow brandished her axe at him, the blades catching the firelight. 

“Do not deny that this is how you feel,” Goro told her, speaking quickly and hating how some desperation crept into his tone. By the way his own Shadow was still clinging to her skirts and uttering desperate platitudes he doubted that that it would listen to Goro’s attempts to accept it right now, and if Haru’s Shadow fought them then he had little doubt that they all would die. “She says things you don’t want to accept, but if you can accept them then you will get stronger, and you can escape.” 

“Grr-o is right!” Teddie said from his side. “Tell her that she’s a part of you and she’ll give you strength! Even the parts of you that you don’t like are a part of you, and you’ll be stronger by accepting it!” 

“Stay away!” the Shadow howled, and swung her massive axe. Unthinkingly Goro shoved Haru out of the way, and the axe slammed into the ground between them, making the entire tower room tremble. “I’m not going to let you use me like everyone else does!” Her voice cracked, and she lifted one hand off of the axe’s handle to dab at her eyes. “I just want to be free to be myself,” she said, voice abruptly softer. “I don’t want to be the princess in the tower, the doll in a box, my only value coming from my looks and my dowry. I’m a person, so why aren’t I treated like one? Why am I so much lesser than everyone else that no one wants to know me for me?” Her voice broke again. “Why am I always alone?” 

Goro stared at the Shadow for a long moment, watching her stand there sobbing, bloody in her attempts to protect herself and still so terribly, viscerally lonely, and felt a pang of something foreign in his chest. Something that was almost like understanding, like kinship. The look his own abused Shadow sent her from her feet, begging for affection even when seeking it was destroying him, was almost reverent; but Goro was no longer certain whether this was just the Shadow’s usual desperation or like calling to like. 

“I’m… I’m not being honest with other people,” Haru said softly from behind him, and as he glanced over to her he saw a look of determination in her watery eyes. Her gaze landed on him for a moment, and there was a flicker of embarrassment there before her resolve hardened and her attention fell solely on her Shadow. “That’s it, isn’t it? I… I want to help father, I want to be a good daughter… that’s what I keep telling myself, every day, but I… I still feel like I’m suffocating.” 

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and stepped forward to meet the eyes of her Shadow, who was staring at her with rapt attention. 

“I’ve been telling everyone what they want to hear, even myself,” she said softly. “But the more I let people believe what they want about me, the less they actually know me, and… and the lonelier I become. How can I expect anyone else to know how I feel, when I don’t acknowledge it myself?” 

She reached out for her Shadow, resting one palm over the back of the hand holding the axe, and taking the Shadow’s free hand in her own. 

“I hate the people who just want to use me,” she stated, voice shaking. “I hate my fiance for the same reason. I want people to know me and want to spend time with me more than anything, but I’m afraid that they all just have ulterior motives and don’t want to know me at all. And… I’m lonely. I’ve been lonely for a very long time, I think.” She lifted the hand entwined with the Shadow’s to wipe away one of her tears. “It isn’t helping, is it? Keeping you locked away in me, like I’m locking myself away from the world. I need to be honest with myself.” Her voice was steady as she spoke again. “My anger, my loneliness… they’re a part of me. I am you, and you are me.”

The Shadow smiled, a soft, hopeful smile that lit up her whole face, and nodded. Shimmering pale blue light enveloped her, gentle and glittering and nothing at all like the blue flames of rebellion, and she released Haru’s hands to take a step back before her body suddenly transformed into something larger, a lady with enormous skirts in beige, purple and black leading to a thin waist, one hand holding a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses up to her headless face, the other clutching a shiny briefcase. It was elegant, and even from a single glance Goro knew it was powerful. 

_The strength of heart required to face oneself has been made manifest,_ a voice that was more like a suggestion of words whispered, and the enormous Persona disappeared as Haru herself was bathed in pale, shining light. _Haru has faced her other self. She has obtained the facade to overcome life’s hardships, the Persona Lucy!_

Haru trembled as the light faded, and began to fall. Both Teddie and Goro moved forward to catch her, but Teddie made it first. 

“Careful!” Teddie exclaimed, letting her lean on him as she struggled to keep herself upright. “You did really well, Haru-chan! No one else I’ve met has been able to accept themselves first time around!”

“R-really?” she tried to say, but her words slurred slightly as the exhaustion of gaining a Persona began to overcome her. Her hands brushed against Teddie’s fur as she tried to straighten up, and she whispered wondrously, “Your fur is so soft...”

“Is it safe for her to stay here?” Goro asked, looking around for a couch or chair or any other place where Haru could sit comfortably. “We need to move quickly, before this place collapses-”

Teddie lifted his head to look straight at Goro and frown. “These places don’t collapse when the Shadow is gone,” he told him. “But, Grr-o-”

He cut off, looking at something just over his shoulder, and Goro paused as he felt the weight of another’s gaze at his back. He’d almost forgotten about the presence of his own Shadow as Haru had accepted hers. 

“Do you understand now?” his Shadow asked, no longer begging and pleading. “Do you see why you will never accept me? Why no one loves us?” 

“Akechi-kun,” Haru began, and Goro shook his head. 

“It’s fine, Okumura-san,” he said without looking at her, turning to face his Shadow. “I want people to love me, and I believe that I am unlovable because I caused my mother’s death,” he stated, lips twisting in disgust as he pushed out the words. “This contradiction is the truth that you want me to accept, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” the Shadow said, lifting its chin. “But you still aren’t being honest. You’re hiding behind a mask right now, playing the kind saviour to Okumura-san.” Goro’s skin began to crawl, and the Shadow grinned. “You have to be honest, Goro. You have to be _real._ ”

“You’re constantly creating arbitrary conditions-” Goro stalled, but the Shadow interrupted him. 

“Tell Okumura-san the truth. Show the world who you really are, and see if you truly are unlovable.” Its golden eyes shone. “Tell her what you’re going to do to her father when you escape.”

And for the first time in his life, Goro was lost for words. 

*

“Your place is amazing, Lady Ann!” Morgana announced practically the second he crossed the threshold into Ann’s apartment, and Ann laughed.

“Thanks, Mona! It’s great to have you back – just don’t run off again, okay? We were all so worried about you!”

Morgana’s ears drooped a little, and he looked away. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and Ann stepped forward to pat his head. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, we’re just glad to have you back!”

“Is everyone here now?” Makoto asked from beside the long, L-shaped couch that Yusuke and Ryuji were already seated on. Futaba ran out from beside Ren and planted herself on the carpet beside the coffee table in front of them, shrugging her enormous backpack off of her shoulders and pulling out her laptop. Ren nodded, resigning himself to leaning on the side of the couch for the majority of the meeting, and lowered the Mona bag to the floor so that Morgana could step out himself. Morgana hopped onto the table without hesitation, and Yusuke and Ryuji straightened up. 

“Then we can begin,” Makoto said with a small smile. “First of all, welcome back Morgana. We all missed you a lot, and we’re all very glad you’re back.” Futaba took that moment to start grabbing at Morgana’s cheeks again, leading to an indignant yowl from the not-cat in question and scattered laughter from the other thieves, as well as a smile from Makoto before she was serious once more. “Could you explain what happened after you jumped into the TV?”

And Morgana did. He told them about how inside the TV he came across Akechi’s Shadow, who attacked him with surprising strength. About pulling himself out of the TV world and ending up in the Okumuras’ living room, and Haru Okumura’s kindness before Sae Niijima and her partner turned up.

“Hold on,” Makoto interrupted, all the colour draining from her face. “The guy who attacked Haru Okumura and Goro Akechi is working in the police force? Working alongside my _sister?”_

Morgana nodded. “He was definitely a police officer. He came back in after Niijima left, saying he forgot his wallet, but it was just an act so he could get in and attack Haru!” His tail was lashing in frustration. “I couldn’t stop him, but I did bite him really, really hard.” 

“Whoa, really?” Ryuji exclaimed, leaning forward as a bright grin spread across his face. “Way to go, Mona!” 

Morgana practically beamed with pride, but Makoto was still looking incredibly grave.

“Ah,” Yusuke said softly, “that would explain the chaotic state of Akechi’s apartment. If the scene was created by the culprit after the abduction had occurred, to throw his colleagues off the scent, then that would explain why there was no true site of an altercation.”

“So this police officer guy threw Akechi into the TV and then set up his apartment so it looked like he was abducted from there instead?” Ann summarised, eyes wide. “That’s… that’s pretty scary.”

“If this is the case, then my sister is in even more danger from the Black Mask,” Makoto whispered, and Morgana shook his head. 

“I’m not so sure. The guy… I don’t think the guy who pushed them into the TV can be the Black Mask.”

“What do you mean?” Yusuke pressed. 

“I mean, when he- when he tried to stop me, I ended up in his Palace. Persona-users can’t have Palaces. And when I got out of there, I met Kanji and Rise and Naoto, and none of them seemed to know anything about the Metaverse, but they all had Personas and knew a lot about the TV world. So I think… I think the two places are similar, and connected somehow, but they aren’t the same, and I don’t think they work the same either. When I was in the TV, I couldn’t sense any Treasure.”

“The terminology isn’t what’s important here!” Makoto snapped, and all eyes turned to her. “Even if this man isn’t the Black Mask, he’s still been trying to kill people by using another world! He’s still incredibly dangerous, and he’s placed himself close to my sister! If Sis gets too close to catching him, and he sees her as a threat-” She cut off, and Ann’s face crumpled in sympathy. 

“We can stop the guy before he tries anything with your sister,” Ann promised, and she turned to the assembled thieves. “So, what do we do? If these people who know about the TV world, we should let them help us, right?” 

“But if we meet up with them in the real world, they might figure out who we are,” Ryuji pointed out. “Our disguises don’t work here.”

“It’s a matter of trust,” Yusuke agreed, but he was frowning. “By agreeing to meet as the Phantom Thieves, we place ourselves in danger if their intentions are not pure.”

“But can we really afford to turn them down?” Ann asked, absently playing with her hair. “We need to find out how to get into TV guy’s Palace, we need this Shido guy’s keywords if he’s behind the actual Black Mask, and we need to go into a new world and save both Okumura and Akechi-”

“It gets worse too,” Futaba mumbled grimly from her place on the floor. “I checked the forecast. By the middle of next week, fog’s rolling in.” 

Cold dread washed over the Phantom Thieves in a wave, and Ren moved so that he could peer over Futaba’s shoulder. Sure enough, there was rain and then fog forecast across the screen. They had a mere five days to get them out. 

“We need to go in the TV,” Ren stated. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

All of the gathered thieves nodded gravely, but Makoto still hesitated. 

“We need to agree to let this other team help us,” she said. “We have no preparation and no time. We can’t do it on our own.”

All eyes turned to Ren, and he nodded. “I’ll reply to Naoto now, tell her that we agree.”

“How many of us should attempt to enter the TV?” Yusuke asked. “Wouldn’t it be wise for some of us to remain on the other side, to see if our teammates’ faces appear on this side, and to inform this ‘Naoto’ and their team if anything goes wrong?” 

“Are you scared to step into the TV, Inari?” Futaba taunted, and Yusuke grimaced. 

“On the contrary, I am fascinated to see what strange creations may await within such a world. However, you have just established that we are running out of time, and if there are any issues we need to uncover them quickly.”

“Inari is actually making sense,” Futaba said, voice awed. “Wow guys, it must be serious.”

“Morgana needs to come in to pull us out,” Ren said. “We need something to create a marker for our exit point too, so that we don’t end up returning through someone else’s TV.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Ann muttered. “I really don’t want to have to try to explain that to my neighbours.”

“In case Morgana needs to be by the exit, Futaba, I’d like you to come as an additional navigator,” Ren said, and Futaba raised her head sharply from her laptop before giving a wide grin. 

“Sweet, I get to see the virtual world!” 

Ren looked over the other thieves. “We have no idea what might be waiting for us in there,” he said. “So Makoto, I’d like you to come for healing and as our strategist.”

Some of the tension pulling Makoto taut eased, and she gave a short nod. 

“Finally,” Ren said, and his eyes fell on Ryuji. “Ryuji, you should come along for some extra firepower if we need it.”

“Damn right, leader!” Ryuji cried, scrambling up off the couch. 

Ren looked back to Ann and Yusuke, the two thieves staying behind, and nodded at them. “Keep an eye on the TV for us. Make sure that nothing happens, and if we’re not back out in a few hours message Naoto Shirogane. This is only a short recon mission – we won’t begin the infiltration without you.”

“We shall await your return,” Yusuke said with a nod, and Ann offered them a thumbs up.

“Go get ‘em, team!” 

Ren grinned, and turned to the TV screen. He tapped his hand against the glass just to check, and once his fingers went through he took a few steps back, then ran and leapt head-first into the television screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for over 200 kudos!! 
> 
> Haru has accepted herself! Sorry that there wasn't more time with Shadow Haru, but things are going to be speeding up with the Phantom Thieves heading in the TV, so I didn't want to spend too much time there. Also Haru got her P5R Persona because *P5R Spoilers* they seemed to gain them from accepting the truth, which I thought was fitting. (The third semester Personas will be the only potential P5R spoilers in this!)
> 
> They're getting closer to the rescue operation, but there's still a bunch of stuff to go, so thank you all for sticking with this so far!! ^_^


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves step into the TV world.

The Phantom Thieves’ entry into the TV world was not like the graceful blurring of the real world and the Metaverse, and as Ren, Makoto, Futaba, Ryuji and Morgana leapt through the screen only Morgana landed on his feet. 

A chorus of soft curses and groans of pain heralded their arrival in the new world, and as they began to sit up and try to make out their surroundings Morgana was already getting to work. He pulled the various fashionable scarves he had ‘borrowed’ from Ann out of his pack, tying them together and looking for something to tie them too. There was a large standing camera nearby, and he tied one end around that before spreading the fabric over the floor in what would hopefully serve as a bright, eye-catching marker for their exit.

Ren squinted at where he thought Morgana was, only just able to see a Morgana-shaped shadow darting in and out of the deep fog, and as he scrunched up his nose he felt the bridge of his glasses shift. He frowned – that was unusual. 

“Our clothes didn’t change,” Makoto pointed out, and as he turned toward her voice he realised that she had also become a blurry, indistinct figure, even though she had to only be a few feet away. She took a step closer to him, becoming a little clearer, but her expression was pinched like she was also struggling to see. “Maybe the ruler doesn’t see us as a threat?” 

“There might not be a true ruler of this place,” Morgana added, almost finished with his marker. “Akechi’s Shadow was hostile, but Haru’s in here too. If they’re both taking up the same place, then they could both be the ruler.”

“Man, this fog is insane,” Ryuji muttered, swiping a hand through the air like he expected it to part around his fingers. “Can’t you clear it up a little, Oracle?” 

Ren looked for Futaba, but as he turned in her direction lime green light shone through the off-yellow fog, letters and numbers of code cutting through the fog like lasers. 

“I can try, but I don’t have good visuals here myself,” she said. “Brb, hopping into Necronomicon.”

Her Persona burst from behind her in a burst of soft blue light, and soon she was ensconced in her enormous, UFO-like Persona. As soon as she was inside, she let out a loud, happy sigh. 

“Ah, much better! I can see everything now.”

“You guys can’t see well in here?” Morgana asked, frowning. “I can see everything fine – things are a bit blurry far away, but everything else is fine.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Futaba exclaimed. “Visual field buff, _activate!”_

Ren braced himself for a sudden brightening of the world around him, and waited. He waited a few moments longer before he glanced over to Futaba in Necronomicon and raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Having trouble?” he asked, and Futaba let out a frustrated huff that was partially muffled by her Persona. 

“I don’t get it,” Futaba groused, and Ren couldn’t practically see her frowning at her consoles. “That definitely should have worked… Joker, summon a Persona so I can buff it!”

Ren lifted a hand to his face, willing his mask to appear and call his Persona forth, but as he moved he noticed that his chest felt surprisingly empty, the usual space where his Personas had sat within him feeling hollow. Nothing happened when he called, and cold dread began to seep into his chest. 

“I can’t,” he said, and he heard his team’s sharp gasps. “They’re not there.”

“N-now that you mention it,” Makoto said quietly, “I can’t feel Johanna.”

“The Captain’s gone too,” Ryuji muttered, and the Phantom Thieves shared a worried look. “What the hell is going on? Mona and Oracle’s Personas work and ours don’t?”

Morgana looked between them, his ear twitching anxiously. “Maybe we should have spoken to the other team about their Personas first,” he mused. 

“Should we back out?” Futaba asked. “Or you guys back out, and I have a look around?”

“No,” Ren said, shaking his head. “We’re already here. We… we should try to find the entrance to the studio Mona saw.”

“We’ll need to be careful if we do find it though,” Morgana said quietly. “Like I said, Akechi’s Shadow was hostile. If it attacks you guys and you don’t have Personas to defend yourselves...”

“I can probably cause a distraction and get you guys out,” Futaba finished, but she didn’t sound particularly confident. “But yeah, if your Personas don’t wanna come home by the time we get there, we should probably leave and ask the big kids for help.” 

Ren nodded, and began walking forward, deeper into the fog. Morgana took the lead, as he could actually see where they were going, while Futaba floated above them all in Necronomicon. After a while of staring ahead and seeing very little it occurred to Ren to test his third eye; while the fog disappeared and the familiar dark haze covered the world, all it revealed was the same tiled walkway leading forward seemingly endlessly, without even any loot for him to snatch along the way. 

But even as Ren walked with his third eye open he could still feel a headache building behind his eyes and a heaviness growing in his limbs, like his body itself was rejecting this place. It was similar to the lethargy he’d felt when he’d initially stepped into Kamoshida’s Castle, before the fear and adrenaline had made it hard to feel anything else, but not like the electricity that seemed to spike the air in the Metaverse after his awakening. 

“The app has changed colour,” Makoto said from his side, and when Ren closed his third eye and looked over to her she was holding her phone out to him. The Metaverse Navigator app was there in the middle of her screen, but she was right – the red eye had turned yellow, like it had absorbed some of the fog filling the world. 

“Can you activate it?” he asked, and Makoto tapped on the screen obligingly. Morgana didn’t have the app, but if there was the option to navigate out of this world if the situation went dire then it was better than nothing. 

Makoto squinted at the screen and let out a small huff, and Ren and Ryuji tried to get a closer look. 

“Well, it knows we’re not in the real world,” she said, “but there isn’t an option to leave here. It just has the location as ‘The Fog’.”

“Charming,” Ren said dryly. 

“So one way in, one way out,” Futaba summarised from above. “Gotta make sure our way out doesn’t get blocked.”

The Phantom Thieves kept moving, Makoto tucking her phone away again and Ren re-opening his third eye, and they kept walking for a while before there was the hint of any change on the horizon. There was the silhouette of a large tower coming up ahead of them, reaching toward the ‘sky’ of this world, its spire hidden in the fog, but unmistakably a building. Morgana’s steps faltered a little at the sight of it, and he frowned.

“That wasn’t there last time,” he told them. “Maybe this is Haru’s Palace?” 

“I can sense Shadow activity coming from there, but it’s still kinda hazy,” Futaba added. “Guess it’ll be clearer once we get closer, but everyone had better be careful.”

They advanced a little more slowly, keeping the tower in their sights although the walkway they were on didn’t deviate away from it. But as they approached, Ren began to hear something like whispering on the edge of his hearing. The words were too quiet to hear, the tone indistinct but the rhythm of it stayed the same, like the same words were being repeated over and over again. It seemed to get slightly louder the closer they got to the tower, but it still wasn’t loud enough for him to make out the words. The voice sounded male though, but a little too deep to be Akechi.

He glanced surreptitiously at the other Thieves to see if they were hearing it too, but although their expressions were pinched with discomfort they didn’t seem like they were necessarily hearing voices. He was just about to ask anyway when Futaba cut across them. 

“There’s a room in front of the tower guys, and I’m sensing some pretty tough Shadows in there!” 

The four on the ground paused, and all eyes turned to Joker. 

“Should we press on anyway?” Makoto suggested. “We haven’t gotten to the true entrance yet.”

Ren thought about it for a moment – if a combat situation was waiting for them in there it would be bad, but she was right. They couldn’t afford to waste time now that they were actually in here, and if they needed to go through a second awakening for their Personas to work in here, then it would be better to trigger it sooner rather than later. 

“Careful, everyone,” he said, and the other thieves nodded grimly as he stepped up beside Morgana and began to approach this room that Futaba had mentioned. 

The whispering grew louder as he approached, but he paused at the entrance of this new room and drank in the strange sight. Oddly, it looked like the area at the very top of Mementos – but instead of the escalators leading down, at the back of the room were a pair of black gates, wrought-iron curled into intricate swirls and flowers, seeming to lead to the tower behind it. 

And, tucked beside the entrance just off to the right, was a closed blue door, its soft glow cutting through the fog like a beacon. 

Ren broke away from the others briefly, approaching what had to be a door to the Velvet Room, and wrapped his hand around the doorknob. He’d never actually tried the door himself – Caroline and Justine had always been waiting for him outside, ready to open the door for him and escort him in – but neither twin was in sight. He tried to turn the doorknob, but it only moved slightly before catching, the door sticking fast. For some reason, this door was locked. 

“Joker?” Makoto said, her voice coming out more like a squeak, and he turned away from the door and faced the room that supposedly held the Shadows, stepping closer. 

But now that he was on the threshold he could hear louder voices spilling from it, almost drowning out the whispering. Voices, he realised with dawning horror, that were awfully familiar.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“Shut the fuck up, dammit!” 

There were two people in the room that he could see – a girl in oversized pyjamas with panda patterns cowering on the ground, and a boy in shorts and a stained tank top looming over her. There was a beer bottle in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” the girl babbled in Makoto’s voice. Ren couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the tears in her voice, see how she was shaking. “Save me Sis, save me-”

“Oh my fucking god, do you ever shut up?” the boy sneered in a voice that could have been Ryuji’s, but was filled with venom that Ren had never heard from his friend. “No one’s going to save you, bitch.” 

“H-hey!” Ryuji interrupted, staggering forward, and the boy with the beer bottle turned toward them. Everyone recoiled a little as he did, and Ren saw that it was Ryuji’s face that was twisted into a disgusted sneer, golden eyes glaring at them all, and it seemed to take the real Ryuji a moment to recover from the shock. “Leave her alone!”

The girl on the ground looked up, turning wide golden eyes to her would-be saviours, and it was Makoto’s tear-stained face staring at them. Makoto gasped sharply at the sight of her.

“Save me,” she pleaded. “I’m useless on my own, I can’t do anything...”

“They’re… they’re Shadows,” Morgana whispered. “They’re… your Shadows…?”

“What the fuck are you looking at?” the other Ryuji snarled, stepping forward and tightening his grip on the beer bottle, stomping forward so he was face to face with Ryuji. When the real one didn’t back down, even though all colour had drained from his face and he was beginning to tremble, the other Ryuji’s lip curled in disgust. “You’re pissing me off, you little shit.”

_“I’m_ pissing you off?” Ryuji shouted, indignant even with this thing up in his face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” 

“Ain’t it obvious?” the other Ryuji hissed back. “I’m you.”

“Is Sis here?” Makoto’s Shadow asked, crawling forward and reaching for Makoto’s legs even as the girl flinched away from her. “I need her here to tell me what to do. I need someone to tell me how to live, I can’t do it on my own.” Her desperate fingers grasped onto Makoto’s leggings and held. “Tell me I’m meeting her expectations, and if I’m not, then tell her I’m sorry and I’ll be better, I’ll be whatever she needs me to be-”

“This is bad,” Futaba whispered, but Ren could barely hear her over the whimpering of Makoto’s Shadow and the sneering of Ryuji’s. 

“I’m so pissed off, all the time,” Ryuji’s Shadow continued, hand flexing over the neck of the bottle. “Even little things that should mean nothing to me make me want to scream. Like, why the hell does everyone keep looking at me like I’m no good? Why does everyone treat me like I’m dumb, like I’m worthless, when all I’m trying to do is live my goddamn life?” He shook his head, turning the bottle over in his hands. “It’s so fucking frustrating. I used to be able to just run until I was out of my head, but now?” He laughed, and it was a harsh, bitter sound that Ren had never heard before. “Now it takes every single thing I have not to just beat the shit out of everyone who pisses me off.”

“N-no,” Ryuji whispered. He took a step back and the Shadow didn’t follow him, just grinned at him like his denial was everything it wanted. “It ain’t like that!”

“Sometimes Yusuke won’t stop talking shit,” the other Ryuji continued, seemingly emboldened by his distress. “Sometimes Makoto is too goddamn full of herself. Sometimes Ann just won’t get off my damn case, and then I just wanna-” He raised the hand with the bottle, swinging it down in a swift, brutal arc, and Ryuji made a sharp, cut off noise. 

Ren couldn’t listen to this, not when this thing was saying it with his best friend’s face. He moved to stand in front of Ryuji, to stare this Shadow down with conviction and tell it that everything it was saying was a lie, but then a hand wrapped around his arm and yanked him away. His head spun toward whoever had grabbed him, already beginning to shake them off, but he froze when he stared into his own face. 

There were no glasses hiding the Shadow’s golden eyes, and there was a heavy, resigned sadness in his face. He recognised the Shadow’s clothes as the baggy, comfortable ones that he had been wearing the night his life fell apart, and thought he could see flecks of the drunken man’s blood on the sleeve of the arm that was holding onto him. He didn’t have those clothes anymore – he’d shoved them deep in the back of his closet after he’d gotten back from the police station, unable to even look at them without the same feeling of helpless injustice clawing at his ribcage, and the sight of his doppelgänger wearing them made his chest feel hollowed out. 

“There’s no point,” his Shadow said, voice quiet and without inflection, and he belatedly realised that this was the voice that he heard whispering earlier. “You can’t help them. You can’t help anyone. You’re no one, just a violent criminal, and when you try to be anything else, you just make it worse.” Ren stared into the miserable eyes of his Shadow, trying to find the words to deny it, but it continued before he could. “You didn’t help that woman back home escape from the guy who ruined your life. You only went after Kamoshida after Suzui was already hurt. You’re the one who led Black Mask to Akechi. It’s all your fault, and you can’t fix it. You can’t fix any of it, and when they all find out that you can’t, they’ll abandon you. Just like mom and dad, and all your friends back home.”

“This is really bad,” Morgana echoed, but he sounded far away. “They need to get out of here!”

“Agreed,” Futaba replied, and then, louder- “Abort mission guys! Exit level, return to checkpoint! Get out and regroup!”

But none of the Phantom Thieves could tear themselves out of their Shadows’ grip. 

“I’m more than what Sis thinks I am,” Makoto told her Shadow, but she lacked conviction. 

“I-I would never do that,” Ryuji insisted, his voice a soft, trembling mess. “I’m not… I’m not like that!”

“I’d be nothing without Sis,” Makoto’s Shadow replied. “The only reason I got anywhere is because Sis was pushing me to be my best. I can’t even stand on my own – I need her to hold me up. All I am is a goody two-shoes who needs someone to tell me what to do, who to be. I know everything about my exams, but nothing about the real world. I’m nothing on my own.”

“But it’s just a matter of time, right?” Ryuji’s Shadow taunted him. “I can’t run from it anymore. It’s going to catch up eventually. I already punched Kamoshida, and even though that fucked up my life, that don’t mean it didn’t feel _damn_ good giving into it for once.” He shrugged languidly. “It might not be my friends, but it’ll be someone eventually. Maybe in college, if I even get there, seeing as I’m dumb as shit. Maybe I’ll find a girl. Maybe I’ll marry her, and then she’ll piss me off. And then...” He smiled. “It’s just like everyone says – it runs in the family. Like father like son.”

“No!” Ryuji shouted at the same time Makoto did, stomping the ground and then immediately flinching, like such a simple act of aggression was enough to horrify him. “That’s not true, dammit!”

For a moment, everyone in the room was still and silent. Then a wide grin split the faces of both Shadows, and Ren’s Shadow gave him one final look, one final whispered ‘you cannot save them’ before it disappeared into the fog, and the other Shadows’ laughs began to echo throughout the room as their forms began to shift. Darkness shrouded them as they grew larger, their limbs bulging and expanding as they swelled into something huge and grotesque, and the thieves stumbled back away from them. 

As the darkness began to clear, Ren realised that Ryuji’s Shadow had turned into an awful combination of Captain Kidd and the boat he was usually standing on, the boat’s prow bursting through cracked and broken ribs, the pirate’s outfit hanging in rags. Likewise, Makoto’s Shadow had transformed into a version of Johanna that was less a motorcycle with a woman’s face but a woman with a body encased in metal, golden eyes staring sightlessly. 

“They’re super powerful!” Futaba shouted. “Guys, Mona definitely can’t take them alone! You need to get out of there _now!”_

Ren took a step back, but when he realised that neither Ryuji nor Makoto were moving, both standing there frozen and staring at their Shadows, he darted forward and grabbed their arms, pulling them back and away with force. He looked over his shoulder at Morgana, who was backing away from the Shadows wide-eyed. 

“Mona!” he ordered, only just managing to stifle the panic in his voice. “Transform!” 

“O-oh yeah!”

Morgana leapt up in the air, transforming into a car and landed heavily on the walkway, doors already open wide. Ren practically tossed Ryuji and Makoto into the back before scrambling toward the driver’s seat, and almost slammed the door on Futaba as she scrambled out of Necronomicon and followed him in. 

“Why didn’t you transform earlier?” she demanded as Ren grabbed the steering wheel and slammed his foot on the accelerator, speeding away just as the Shadows behind them lunged. 

“I-I forgot, okay?” Morgana defended, but his voice was high and panicked. “When I was in here alone no one could drive me!”

His headlights cut through the fog easily, but they did nothing for the fog behind – through the rearview mirrors Ren could see dark shapes lurching after them, half-hidden in the fog, as well as Ryuji and Makoto’s grim, pale faces, mute and trembling in the back. 

“Are they gaining on us?” Ren asked tightly, and Futaba drew up a green screen that flickered in the corner of his eye. 

“They’re- they’re slowing down,” Futaba answered, and Ren let out a shaky, relieved breath but didn’t ease his foot off the pedal. “They’re probably stuck to that area and can’t go too far out of it. Probably.”

_An area that is right in front of where we need to go,_ Ren finished mentally, but he couldn’t think about that right now. He needed to get his team to safety before anything else. 

He kept driving, Makoto and Ryuji suspiciously silent, until the headlights shone on the scarves that Morgana had set up what felt like days ago. 

“Mona,” he began, but he didn’t need to finish. Before they had the chance to pile out of the car the world around them began to narrow, the same black and white swirls that had filled his vision when he had leapt into the TV in Ann’s house overwhelming him-

-and Ren was suddenly flying forward, only just managing to avoid crashing face-first into the coffee table set up in front of the TV and still ending up in a heap on the floor. Morgana hopped onto the table easily, the movement graceful but undercut by the panicked rise and fall of his chest, and just as Ren was about to raise himself from where he’d crashed on the ground a heavy weight landed hard on his back, knocking the breath from his lungs. Another two quickly followed, and Ren was buried under the combined weight of his teammates. 

“Sorry, dude,” Ryuji croaked from on top of him, and Ren let out a pained wheeze that he hoped Ryuji knew was a ‘no worries, man’. 

“A-are you guys okay?” Ann asked, voice filled with worry as she hovered over them, and once his teammates pulled themselves off of him Ren lifted his head to see Ann and Yusuke watching them with pale, concerned faces. He gave them a shaky thumbs up, and they relaxed a little.

“Did we show up on the TV?” Ren asked, and Ann shook her head. 

“No,” she said. “The TV went all swirly at first when you went in there, but then nothing turned up on the screen.”

“How long were we in there for?” 

“Just over an hour,” Yusuke answered, lifting a hand to his chin. 

_Felt like longer,_ Ren thought but didn’t say. The walk down to the room with the Shadows had felt like it took forever, but driving Mona back had seemed like mere seconds. 

“What was the world like within?” Yusuke asked, and Ren found himself freezing, his gaze darting over to Ryuji and Makoto before he could stop himself. 

Both of his teammates were staring at the ground, seemingly incapable of meeting any of the others’ gazes, and he could already read growing concern in Ann and Yusuke’s eyes. Neither of them looked like they were ready to tell the others what they’d seen in the other world, and what their Shadows had said, but it felt something like a betrayal for Ren to be the one to say it out loud. 

“...Not good,” he said eventually, and Ryuji and Makoto finally looked up at him, wearing identical looks of panic. “We couldn’t access our Personas in there.”

“Well, these three couldn’t,” Futaba corrected, gesturing to the three in question. “Mona and I could summon ours fine.”

“That’s… that’s really bad,” Ann said, hand flying to her mouth. “How are we going to get them out of there if we can’t use our Personas?” 

“Perhaps the other Persona-users will have some insight on this?” Yusuke suggested. “It is possible that they awakened to their Personas within this other world, and they may have insight on the process that we lack.”

“Yeah,” Futaba said with a nod. “I was thinking about that while we were walking. I mean, you guys told me how you awakened to your Personas, and while it was similar to mine, mine was different, right? Like you guys never saw your Shadows in the first place, but my Shadow became my Persona. And Mona never spilled the beans on how he got his Persona, so maybe his awakening was more similar to mine, and that’s why his Persona worked in there too?” She turned to face Makoto, offering her a small smile. “What do you think, Makoto? Am I right?” 

Makoto jumped a little at the sound of her name, like she’d been getting lost in her head, and she stared at Futaba with wide, scared eyes. When she realised that the entire team was looking at her, she ducked her head and retreated a step. 

“S-sorry,” she said, “I… I think I need a moment alone.” 

She hurried out of the room, heading toward the bathroom, and Ann took a half-step toward her before stopping. She turned back to Ren with a hardness in her eyes. 

“What happened in there?” she demanded, and Morgana’s ears went back. 

Ren was silent for a moment, trying to find a delicate way to put it, but Morgana and Futaba didn’t waste time. 

“Their Shadows were there,” Morgana said. “And they… they said some bad stuff.” 

Ann and Yusuke’s concerned gazes landed on Ren and Ryuji, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the team. 

“Oh,” Ann said softly, and Ren turned away from them to tug his phone out of his pocket, checking for a response from Shirogane. 

The private investigator’s response was so surprising that it startled a chuckle out of him. 

**KTHNX MEET @ INOKASHIRA PARK AFTR SKOOL TMRRW Y/N REPLY ASAP**

“Shirogane and their team want to meet us at Inokashira Park tomorrow,” he relayed to the others, drawing their attention away from Ryuji. “We can ask them specifics about their awakenings and about travel into the TV world tomorrow.”

“Do you think we’ll have enough time to re-awaken our Personas before the fog comes?” Yusuke asked with a furrowed brow.

“We’ll discuss it with the other team,” Ren said, even as Yusuke frowned. Some of them would need to re-awaken their Personas – they couldn’t leave the other Persona-users to save Haru and Akechi on their own – but the thought of going back in there and looking into the miserable, resigned eyes of his Shadow made something in his chest feel tight. 

_You can’t save them._ His Shadow’s whispers still rang in his head, even now that he was out, but was that really what he thought? He’d been spending so much time telling himself that they had to save them, that he had to believe they would succeed… but deep down, did he really believe his own words? After today they only had four days to save them. They’d have to go back in the TV tomorrow, he’d have to get his Personas back somehow, and so would at least one other member of his team…

“We’ll meet up with Shirogane in Inokashira Park after school,” he repeated. “We’ll exchange information, and we’ll make progress.” He forced steel into his tone, and looked over the gathered thieves. “We will save them.”

The meeting ended, and before Ren could grab him and ask him if he was okay after what they had seen in there Ryuji made his excuses and hurried out. Yusuke followed him, and as Ren moved to leave with Morgana and Futaba, Ann caught his sleeve before he could go. 

“I’ll speak to Makoto about this,” she said quietly. “But… are you okay, Ren?” 

Ren paused. He thought about telling her about his Shadow, but the thought of vocalising its concerns about their success felt like a curse, felt like he was betraying his team somehow. Besides, compared to what Makoto and Ryuji had seen in there, his Shadow’s whispers were nothing. 

“I’m good,” he said, flashing her a small, reassuring smile. It clearly worked, because she let go of his arm with a look of relief on her face. 

“Good. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She held up one arm in a determined pose. “Maybe I can go in the TV next time, and help you guys out!”

Ren kept his smile on his face, nodding even though he wanted to protect all of them from the hollow, awful feeling of having something with your own face spewing your insecurities like it was nothing. Futaba was tugging on his arm, and he said his goodbyes before the three of them left. 

On the way to the train station, Futaba was watching him like a hawk. 

“You can’t fool me,” she told him. “I know that seeing your Shadow is a lot. I saw mine and crashed out for like, a month, remember?” 

“You accepted it as your Persona at the same time,” he reminded her, evasive, but he could feel Morgana’s paws kneading his shoulder anxiously as they walked along. “I only saw mine for a minute or so. It’s nothing.”

“No, nuh-uh, stop doing that!” Futaba huffed, stomping her foot. “Don’t dismiss this! It really upset Ryuji _and_ Makoto, don’t just brush it off if it upset you too!” 

Ren hesitated. He was the leader, he had to stay strong – he couldn’t let any sign of weakness through and disrupt his team. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We don’t have time. We can’t falter from this, we need to succeed.”

Futaba let out a little huff. “I mean, yeah, we need to get them out before the Big Bad Stuff happens, but I beat Medjed on literally the deadline day, so it’s not like we’ve never cut things fine before. We got this.” She hopped in front of him, making him stumble to a stop to avoid crashing into her, and gave him a pointed look. “But that doesn’t mean that you can’t be worried about it! We all know that you’ve been really worried about Akechi this whole time, and now we have a solid deadline it’s more _real_ and this roadblock is like, a difficulty spike we weren’t ready for, but you know what gets you over a difficulty spike?” She held up two fingers. “Skill, and levelling up! We got all the skills, and once you get your Personas back, you’ll be hella OP for this place!” 

Ren cracked a smile, and Futaba grinned, reaching up on her tiptoes to grab at his cheeks like she grabbed at Morgana’s. 

“You got this, grasshopper.”

He pushed her off easily, but used his free hand to ruffle her hair. She squawked, flailing her arms around and almost hitting Morgana in the face, but he was laughing, and the hollowness that had plagued him since he had looked in his Shadow’s face was chased away. Futaba looked pretty proud of herself, and he bumped her shoulder one more time for good measure before the three of them made their way to the train to Yongen-Jaya.

*

The Phantom Thieves had agreed to their proposal, just as she had hoped, but that didn’t mean that Naoto was going to sit around and waste a day waiting to meet with them all. She was still on a tight deadline from Kunikazu Okumura, and she still had the description that Morgana had given her – a police officer with dark, messy hair and a red tie. That could be practically any officer in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, but he now sported bite wounds in his leg and hand too, and his injuries would make him much more identifiable. 

So Naoto found herself wandering into the department wearing her tallest shoes, walking straight up to the desk and asking to speak to Sae Niijima about an important matter, flashing her business card as she did so. She glanced around the lobby while she waited, and tried not to grimace at the multitude of newspapers and tabloids scattered across the waiting area with Akechi and Haru Okumura’s faces staring back at her. 

The media drought regarding Akechi, despite the attention that a missing celebrity should have brought, had been incredibly strange, but now it seemed like it was open season. Even from her distance Naoto could see tasteless headlines alluding to a tragic past and a difficult home life, although she noted that there was no speculation whatsoever about his legitimacy. She wondered if that was the media deciding to be somewhat decent toward a missing individual (unlikely), or if they had been specifically told not to run any pieces like that. Told, perhaps, by whoever had kept him out of the news in the first place, but had apparently now decided otherwise. 

She was still deep in thought when the receptionist called her name, telling her that Sae Niijima was willing to speak to her briefly, and to meet her in one of the conference rooms on the first floor. Naoto thanked her and began making her way over to the room, vaguely remembering the layout of the department from the few times she had been here over the past five years. 

She couldn’t remember working with Niijima officially during her few cases in Tokyo – she may have passed her a folder once the case was resolved to aid with prosecution, and had a vague recollection of signing something on her behalf and being embarrassed about it – but she had to admit there was something refreshing about meeting with another woman on official business. At least Niijima was unlikely to proposition her. (She’d taken to wearing a plain band on her left ring finger ever since she was eighteen, just to shut down any unwarranted speculation about her love life. She still remembered the looks of shock and borderline horror on Rise and Kanji’s faces when they had spotted it before she had a chance to explain, and their shared irritation that such a precaution was necessary.)

Niijima was already waiting for her by the time she pushed open the conference room door, standing with her arms folded and a severe expression on her face. She looked tired, Naoto noted, although her make-up and clothes were immaculate. She was holding herself far too tight, however, and looked like she was a moment away from snapping. 

“Niijima-san,” Naoto said with a bow. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice.”

“It’s fine, Shirogane-san,” Niijima replied shortly. “But I am extremely busy. I would appreciate it if you could keep this brief.”

“Of course.” All she needed was a name and she could do the rest. “I understand that you and a colleague of yours visited the residence of Kunikazu Okumura recently, and your colleague was injured in the process?” 

At the mention of Okumura’s name, Niijima’s eyes abruptly narrowed into slits. 

“Okumura?” she repeated, incredulous. _“You’re_ investigating the abduction of Haru Okumura?” 

_Abduction,_ Naoto noted. _Not disappearance. She’s certain she was taken._

“I cannot speak of any cases that I may or may not be working on at this time,” Naoto replied effortlessly, and a sneer twisted Niijima’s lips. “If you could tell me the-”

Niijima slammed her hand on the desk of the conference table, and Naoto broke off at the infantile attempt at intimidation. It seemed Sae was already sick of playing nice. 

“This is _my_ case,” Niijima snarled, abruptly aggressive. “You think you can just waltz in here and take it away from me?” 

“I’m sure that we are working on two separate cases, Niijima-san,” Naoto said, tone even. Niijima’s hostility was an unwelcome surprise, but she had dealt with much more aggressive people before. Niijima didn’t scare her. 

“Bullshit!” She gestured angrily to the door behind her. “Every news outlet in Tokyo knows that Akechi and Okumura are linked! They both showed up-” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath, but she’d already given away that she not only knew about the Midnight Channel, but had seen it herself. That was already more than the police force in Inaba had known about what was really going on. “Akechi is _my_ “I am the one who will find him, and Okumura, and throw the book at these ‘Phantom Thieves’ who think it’s funny to abuse teenagers and call themselves just.” She met Naoto’s eyes with a deep-set fury. “I will not allow some _child_ to interfere with my work.”

Naoto’s expression twitched before she could properly contain it, and satisfaction shone in Niijima’s face. 

She had a choice here. She could press Niijima, trying to get as much information as she could while risking Niijima completely shutting her out in an attempt to defend ‘her’ investigation, or she could just say whatever she had to in order to get the name of the colleague who had attacked Haru Okumura. 

“There was blood on the carpet of the Okumura household,” Naoto told her, folding her arms across her chest. “I do not know if it is related to the disappearance of Haru Okumura, but what I do know is that one of your colleagues was injured on the property. I need to know the name of the individual involved so that we can ascertain if the blood belongs to them.” She met Niijima’s gaze impassively. “If you help me with this, I can tell you if the blood belongs to your colleague – or if it is evidence of another party’s involvement.”

Niijima abruptly looked more interested in what Naoto had to say, and something squirmed uncomfortably in her chest at even suggesting this. Her investigation was supposed to be something sacred, not something she bartered with. She could practically see the gears turning in Niijima’s mind, and Naoto had a guess for what the woman would say to her. 

“If it isn’t his blood, you’ll bring me a sample to be tested,” Niijima stated, leaving no room for argument. “This isn’t the time to be playing games with their lives.”

Naoto’s lips twitched - _who was the one who wasn’t willing to aid my investigation because it would overlap with your own?_ \- but she nodded anyway. She already knew that the blood would be whoever Morgana had successfully bitten – she wouldn’t have to do anything to betray Okumura’s trust, or her investigation. 

“I see no problem with that,” she said, and Niijima smiled like she had won a prize. 

“Did you not keep in contact with your own colleagues, Shirogane-san?” Niijima asked, and Naoto waited for an elaboration. “The man who came with me to the Okumuras was previously stationed in Inaba.”

She had expected that whoever had pushed them into the TV had at least passed through Inaba, but the knowledge that it had been a colleague – that someone in the police force who had vowed to protect the people had actually gone out of their way to kidnap and murder their charges – made discomfort turn over in her chest. Who? Who had watched Dojima drive himself mad chasing after a killer who used an entirely other world as a weapon and just stood by, content to make everything worse? Content to watch _Nanako_ almost die, and remain weak ever since? 

Who had dripped poison in Namatame’s ear, driving him to kidnap people, and had murdered those poor women? 

“Who is he?” Naoto asked, forcing her tone neutral. 

“Tohru Adachi,” Niijima answered, and for a moment everything seemed to freeze. 

Adachi? Dojima’s own partner, the bumbling, clueless ‘detective’ who had so often stumbled upon their meetings, spilling information that he should have kept under wraps? The officer who had always seemed so surprised by every development, who had been watching the entire time but had seemed so harmless… he was the one behind the murders? He had attacked Haru and Morgana seemingly on a whim?

A memory came to her – of her walking through the streets at night and coming across Yu and Adachi standing together, talking animatedly between themselves in a way that Yu hadn’t often done even with his so-called friends. She’d once asked Yu what they spoke about, and he had simply shrugged and said something about the officer understanding what it was like to go from a big city to a small town; as if that wasn’t exactly what Yosuke had tried to bond with him over. But now she wondered if that was all they had discussed.

Had Yu known? Had Yu chosen to protect a murderer over his own team when he had ushered her back inside Aiya, and hadn’t allowed the team to reach the truth they had sought all year? 

Niijima was still watching her, she realised belatedly, but suddenly Niijima was completely unimportant. There was rage burning in her chest with a ferocity that almost stole her breath – a harsh, suffocating sensation that she had never felt so strongly before. 

Betrayal. She had trusted Adachi, and he was a monster. 

Had Yu betrayed them too?

“...Thank you, Niijima-san,” Naoto said with a bow, trying to smother her rage. She needed to tell Kanji and Rise, and the rest of the team – although, she realised, Rise had already left Yu a voicemail telling him about the two in the TV. But before she did that, there was something else. Niijima was working alongside him, placing herself in the most danger, and had no idea. “I… was made aware of some rumours regarding Adachi-san,” she added slowly. “After I stopped working with the Inaba police. It… it would be best if you do not spend time alone with him, Niijima-san.” 

Niijima’s eyes narrowed in contempt. “I can take care of myself, Shirogane-san.” 

_Not if he pushes you into a TV,_ she thought, but she didn’t dare push. She had the name of the culprit – now all she needed was to save his victims, and gather enough evidence to destroy him. And, if ‘Joker’ had been telling the truth and they could make use of Adachi’s ‘Palace’… then maybe he’d even be able to destroy himself. 

“Thank you for your time, Niijima-san,” Naoto said, and she bowed one final time. She pulled her business card out of her pocket, placing it on the table between them before hurrying out of the room. 

She checked her phone, seeing that the Phantom Thieves had agreed to meet in Inokashira Park, and nodded silently to herself. Tomorrow she’d meet with the thieves, and then they could begin to rescue Adachi’s victims. 

_I should have stopped him five years ago,_ she thought grimly, before trying to push that aside. She couldn’t change the past, but she could make sure that no one else suffered for her past failures. 

She would not fail them like she failed Inaba.

*

That evening Ren tried and failed to get the thoughts of the Shadows out of his mind. 

He sat on his bed rolling his phone over his hands, torn between messaging Makoto privately to ask if she was okay and calling Ryuji to see if he was willing to talk about it. But despite his concern for his teammates he was still hesitant to take the plunge and contact them – part of him was afraid that they’d turn their concern onto him. Futaba had helped, and Morgana had awkwardly let him know he was there to talk if he wanted, but he still didn’t want to have to discuss his own Shadow when he’d have to talk about it tomorrow with strangers anyway. 

Ryuji and Makoto probably felt the same, but that didn’t stop him from worrying about them. 

His thumb was hovering over Ryuji’s contact when his phone buzzed in his hand, making him jump. His friend’s name lit up the screen, making the decision for him, and he answered immediately.

_“Hey,”_ Ryuji greeted. He sounded so tired. _“Uh, sorry for just getting out of there before, and being kinda useless in that place.”_

“No worries,” Ren replied, twisting a loose thread on his blanket between the fingers of his free hand. “You doing okay?”

Ryuji let out a puff of air that was half a laugh, half a sigh. 

_“I don’t know, dude. I just...”_ He let out a quiet, frustrated noise. _“You… you know I’d never hurt any of you guys, right?”_

“I know. You’re the nicest guy I know, Ryuji.”

That same half-laugh. _“Don’t feel very nice right now.”_ He paused, and Ren waited for him to continue. _“That… that thing in there. I think Morgana was right. I think it was my Shadow, but not… not like Kamoshida’s, or Madarame’s. Those ain’t my desires – I’d never want to hurt any of you, ever. But I think… I think it’s like Futaba’s was.”_ His voice grew quiet. _“I think it’s everything I hate about myself.”_

“Ryuji,” Ren said softly, but Ryuji made a little noise, cutting him off.

_“Nah, I need to say it. It’s just gonna keep eating at me if I don’t.”_ He took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself. _“I’ve never wanted to really hurt anyone, but when I punched Kamoshida… that thing was right. I did like it. I liked it a lot. And I do get angry, I get so angry sometimes, but I’d never act on it because there’s no way in hell I’m doing to anyone what my dad did to me. But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared that one day I’ll...”_ He trailed off. _“There was something they said after I hit Kamoshida. Something about a… a ‘cycle of violence’, how I’m bound to end up just like him. And I’m scared shitless that they’re right.”_

“They’re not,” Ren said with certainty. 

_“Thanks. I keep telling myself they’re wrong, that I’m better than that, but… sometimes it’s hard, y’know? Hearing that thing saying that stuff with my face, wearing my dad’s clothes… it shook me up, is all.”_ He paused for a moment. _“It… it’s gonna be hard going back in there. I want to, I want to look straight at that thing’s stupid face and tell it that I’m better than it thinks I am – that yeah, I might be more scared of that than anything else, but I’m more than that – but I think that if I see it again, I’ll just freak out. I just-”_ He took in a sharp breath abruptly. _“Hold on, Mona said yours was there too, right? Man, I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t even notice it – are you doing okay, dude?”_

Ren tried not to think about his own Shadow.

“I’m okay,” he said, and it was true enough. 

_“Good. We need at least one of us to be okay in there tomorrow, right?”_ He sighed again. _“Damn. How long were we in there? Yusuke said it was about an hour in real time, right? That thing managed to completely get in my head and we got out in an hour.”_ He paused, and Ren imagined that he was shaking his head. _“Dude, Akechi’s been in there alone for_ weeks.”

Ren had been trying not to think about that either, but it was a horrible thought. The thing that had appeared on the screen, increasingly injured and bloody, begging to be loved… was that what had kept the real Akechi company for the past month? The injuries that had scared him so much on the midnight TV shows… had Akechi inflicted them on the Shadow himself, if facing it had grown too much? Or were they a reflection of Akechi himself, evidence of Akechi’s mental state deteriorating the longer he spent in there? Or had the culprit or the Black Mask been hopping in and out of the TV world to make him suffer? 

None of the possibilities were good. 

_“I don’t like the guy, but no one deserves that,”_ Ryuji continued, drawing Ren out of his thoughts. _“We can’t just leave him in there, or the Okumura girl.”_

“I agree. We need to get them out, fast.”

_“Yeah. Gotta hope Shirogane and their team are the real deal, huh?”_ He heard Ryuji let out a loud yawn on the other end of the phone, and pulled it away from his ear for a moment. _“Hey, thanks for hearing me out. We’ll think of something, and we’ll get both of ‘em out before the fog comes.”_

Ren uttered a quiet agreement, and Ryuji said his goodbyes before hanging up, leaving Ren to stare up at the ceiling and wonder how the hell they were going to deal with their Shadows in time. Morgana plodded over to him, walking with a bit more confidence than the day before, and Ren reached out to run a hand across his fur. 

“You feeling better?” he asked, and Morgana gave a small nod. “Everything hinges on tomorrow,” Ren murmured. “We only have a few days to get them out before the fog comes.” 

“You don’t need to worry about tomorrow,” Morgana told him with certainty. “They all want to help us. The three of them will know how to deal with the Shadows and get your Personas back in time.”

Ren nodded, continuing to drag his hand across Morgana’s fur. Morgana settled down on his chest, tucking his paws beneath himself, and let out a small huff. 

“Well, you should go to sleep so you’re ready for tomorrow. We’re meeting them in Inokashira Park, right?” At Ren’s nod, his ears twitched. “You’ll all have to be careful not to slip up with your codenames. They aren’t civilians, but they aren’t quite thieves either.” His eyes widened. “Hey, if they end up helping us with that guy’s Palace, do you think we’ll need to give them codenames too?”

“They might already have codenames,” Ren pointed out, but Morgana didn’t seem dissuaded. 

“If Personas come from Shadows in there, do you think that Haru and Akechi will end up being Persona-users too?”

“I don’t know,” Ren answered. His eyes were beginning to droop. “I guess we’ll see when we’re in there.”

“I guess,” Morgana said, and he blinked at him. “Oh right.” He rested a paw on Ren’s nose, like that was somehow relaxing and not just incredibly weird. “Sweet dreams. We’ll get back to work tomorrow.”

Ren nodded and closed his eyes, and let Morgana’s pleased hum and gentle breathing lead him to sleep, chasing away thoughts of the twisted Shadows and strange, foggy worlds waiting for him tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I spent all week playing P5 Strikers and didn't write as much as I wanted, so it's a good thing I wrote a really big chunk of this before I started posting!!   
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter and seeing some of the Shadow Phantom Thieves! No Akechi this time, but he will be there next time.   
> Thank you for reading and thank you once again for all the kudos and comments! I read and appreciate every single one ^_^


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves get ready to enter the TV world.

Ren opened his eyes to a familiar song, and an unfamiliar blue room. 

His pyjamas hadn’t been replaced with a prisoner’s uniform, and the sight in front of him wasn’t broken up by metal bars in front of his face. Instead he was sitting on the plush leather seat of what was probably the biggest car he’d ever seen, bathed in blue light. His eyes fell briefly on a cabinet to the left that was filled with what looked like expensive liquor but with labels in a strange language he couldn’t read, but his attention was drawn to a round table sitting opposite him with tarot cards scattered across it haphazardly. 

Even at his distance he could recognise pictures that were familiar from his time with Chihiya – a Fool card in reverse, the upright seven and ten of swords, the eight of cups, and while he didn’t know exactly what they meant he got the impression those cards were bad news. But before he could get a closer look or try to remember their meanings, he realised that he wasn’t alone. Sitting to the right of the table was a beautiful woman in a blue dress, her pale silver hair pulled in a ponytail and her golden eyes set on him. Ren’s immediate thought was that she was related to the twins, and she inclined her head toward him at his attention. 

“Welcome to the Velvet Room,” she said in an almost emotionless cadence, similar to Justine. “My name is Margaret. I apologise for bringing you here so suddenly, Ren Amamiya.”

Ren thought he should be unnerved that this woman knew him when he didn’t know her, but he was still too confused by the suggestion that this limo was the Velvet Room, as opposed to the prison cell he was used to. He hadn’t been summoned to the Velvet Room since the entire situation with Akechi had begun, even though he had been certain that Igor would have had something to say about it, but now he was being summoned to a completely different room with no Igor in sight?

“What’s going on?” he asked, deciding that being direct was probably the way to go. 

“There has been a… complication,” Margaret said, her hands curling in her lap. “As you may well have guessed, this is not _your_ Velvet Room. This is the room of a Wildcard who came before you, who I served as his attendant. Under normal circumstances, no Wildcard would step into the realm of another, nor would they enter another’s Velvet Room.” There was a slight tug at the corner of her lips, the slightest hint of a frown. “These are not normal circumstances.”

“Another’s realm?” Ren repeated. “Do you mean the TV world?”

“Yes. The other world that the Wildcard of five years ago entered came to be known as the ‘TV world’. In the contract that he signed to gain access to this room, he agreed to solve the mystery of this world and uncover the truth of the fog. Instead, he betrayed all bonds but one, and now works alongside a murderer to sow chaos in your world.” Her voice grew ever so slightly harder. “Fates have been altered and steered along the wrong path. An unjust game continues, and has dragged two more Wildcards into its path. As a Wildcard with access to the Velvet Room, I am willing to offer a service to even the odds.”

_Two other Wildcards?_ whispered in the back of Ren’s mind. _My predecessor dragged me and another Wildcard into this? Who?_ He remembered what Morgana had relayed about Akechi’s Shadow, the Shadow telling him that the Black Mask was a Persona-user without guidance. Was the Black Mask the other Wildcard who was involved?

...Or was it Akechi?

“What are you offering?” Ren asked, and the ghost of a smile played on Margaret’s lips. 

“I can shackle your Shadow, giving you access to your Personas within the TV world. You will not have to face your other self, and would be able to venture through this world without internal opposition.”

She paused, and Ren sensed that there was some catch to this suggestion. 

“But?” he pressed.

“But a Shadow is not a thing that can simply be bound and abandoned. Your Metaverse is a world of will and rebellion, of justice and retribution. This ‘TV world’ deals in truths, harsh and binding but with freedom within. To bind a Shadow in the Metaverse would be false rebellion. To bind a Shadow in the TV world would be to deny the truth of your self, to keep the truest, darkest emotions and beliefs locked away. There is a chance that by doing so, you will never be able to confront these truths, and they will instead grow and lead to distortion.”

“So I’d be able to travel through the TV world with no problem, but might develop a Palace in the Metaverse?” Ren summarised. Margaret nodded, and Ren ran over the thoughts in his mind. He couldn’t risk forming a Palace. He couldn’t risk putting his team through that, but he couldn’t leave Akechi and Haru Okumura in the TV either, especially not when their deadline was already so tight. “Is there another way? Can I get my Personas back without you binding my Shadow?” 

“If you can truly accept yourself, every truth and every fear, without looking away or denying that they are a part of you, no matter the pain of the revelation,” Margaret said, slowly and with conviction, “then the strength to face oneself shall be made manifest, and your Shadow shall become a Persona.”

Somehow that sounded harder than becoming so angry that you found the strength to rip your face off. The thought of looking into the eyes of that Shadow telling him that everything he fought for was pointless and telling it that this was how he felt – telling it that _in front of his team_ – made that uncomfortable, hollow feeling in his chest widen, but if that was what it took to prove it wrong and save them...

“I’ll try to accept myself as I am,” he told her, and there was another twitch in Margaret’s expression. It was a tiny shift, but her eyes grew softer, and Ren got the distinct impression that somehow he’d passed a test. 

“I will respect your choice, Wildcard. I will attempt to assist you – I intend to make up for the harm that my guest has caused in any way I can. This room is intended to help humanity save itself from capricious gods, not to bend to their will.”

At the mention of gods Ren wondered once again what exactly he’d gotten himself into when he’d dreamt of a blue-tinged prison, but there was no point in questioning it now. 

“Can you tell me more about that world?” he asked instead. Naoto and her team were bound to tell them all more when they met up tomorrow, but a Velvet Room attendant may have information that they didn’t. “Will the fog really kill whoever is in there if they’re not brought out in time?”

There was a flicker of unease in Margaret’s face. 

“I no more dwell in that world than I dwell in yours,” she told him. “But know that when fog comes to your world, it will be too late. The truth will be lost forever.”

_Accept yourself and get them out before it gets foggy,_ Ren summarised. _You can do this._

“I’ll do what I can,” he promised, feeling more comfortable agreeing to help this nice lady who had yet to threaten or shout at him. The twins might have grown on him over the last few months, but interacting with them always left him exhausted. 

A genuine smile shone on Margaret’s face, and she inclined her head toward him. “Thank you, Wildcard. I wish you good fortune.”

The car continued to move, and Ren wondered if he should reach for the door and leave when drowsiness began to overcome him, and the Velvet Room faded away.

*

All of the Phantom Thieves arrived in Inokashira Park after school, Futaba and Yusuke easily joining with the Shujin students and making their way toward the water, Ren and Morgana looking for the other Persona-users. They spotted the three of them leaning against one of the waist-high fences circling the lake, and approached them after Morgana gave them a hissed reminder to remember their codenames and not to slip up under any circumstances. 

The three stood to attention as the group of teenagers approached, and Ren noted that Kanji once again had a plastic tub full of cookies with him. Rise’s hair had been pulled up into a ponytail rather than hanging loose, but was wearing jeans and a halter top rather than a dress, looking a bit less like the idol whose face was on posters all over Shibuya. Shirogane and Kanji looked pretty much the same as the previous day – in fact, Kanji looked like he was still wearing the exact same outfit – but all of them smiled in an attempt at encouragement. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Shirogane greeted. “I am Naoto Shirogane. These are my friends and teammates, Kanji Tatsumi and Rise Kujikawa.”

Ryuji elbowed Ren sharply in the side, and Ren glanced over to him. “Dude,” Ryuji hissed, “you didn’t say one of them was a freakin’ idol!” 

Ren was pretty sure that he had, but Makoto was already stepping in. 

“The pleasure is ours,” she replied, bowing slightly. “Forgive the use of codenames, but under the circumstances we want to take whatever measures we can to preserve our identities.” She held a hand up to her chest. “I’m Queen.” 

Rise and Kanji looked a bit surprised by that, but Naoto’s expression didn’t twitch. The Phantom Thieves went around, giving their codenames, until they landed back on Joker. 

“We need to know some things about the TV world before we go in,” Ren told them. Kanji had popped open the box of cookies during the introductions and Ann already had two in her hands, a look of utter delight on her face, but the majority of the team were solemn and serious. “Like how you awakened your Personas in there.”

Naoto frowned, the expression little more than a flicker, but Ren waited for her answer. Margaret had given him the answer in his dreams, it was true, but he wanted to hear more from the people who had actually gained their Personas through supposedly accepting themselves. 

“...Do you have reason to suspect that the process was different for us than it was for you?” she asked. “Because the worlds where they initially manifested in were different, or-?”

“They might just be curious, Naoto!” Rise cut across her, smiling. “Aren’t you curious about how they got their Personas?” 

“We… we went into the TV world yesterday,” Makoto told them, even as Futaba hissed at her to be quiet. “Five of us did. But only two of us could summon our Personas in there.” The older Persona-users looked alarmed at that, but Makoto continued. “The three of us who could not also seemed to come across our Shadows in there.”

“You saw your Shadows?” Kanji said, eyes wide. “And you didn’t fight them?”

“I got them out of there fast,” Morgana assured him. 

“To gain our Personas, we faced our Shadows and accepted that they were part of us,” Naoto explained, folding her arms and looking at the ground. “Even though they were parts of us that we did not want to accept, and were… exaggerated. Generally, they represented parts of us we were repressing, but I believe that they were attempting to be as evocative as possible to make us deny them and allow themselves to get stronger.” 

She took in a deep breath, like she was readying herself, but Rise cut across her before she could elaborate. 

“Yeah, they were definitely exaggerated. My Shadow showed up in a swimsuit and with a much bigger chest than I actually have, saying it wanted to show the real me to the world-” (Ryuji started to say something before Ann drove her elbow in his ribs to stop him) “-but the thing is, I did want people to see me, but the big problem was that I didn’t know who _‘me’_ was. I was feeling like my career wasn’t honest, but when I took a break and tried to be just a normal girl, that didn’t feel real either. My Shadow was trying to show me that there was no ‘real’ me that I could magically find and feel okay with – every part of me is real. So it’s like… they really could have been nicer about it, and appearing on the TV kinda sucked, but the Shadows are just trying to make you accept things about yourself that you’re scared of facing. And then you get a Persona as a reward!” 

She offered them an encouraging smile. 

“I mean, it was a bad time for us, but we had no idea what was happening, right? We didn’t know what Personas were, or how to deal with it – we just saw something with our face telling the world what we didn’t want them to know. But you guys have already gotten your Personas once before, and you all already have each other by your sides, so you’re all bound to get them back no problem!”

“We can also guide you through the process,” Naoto assured them, and Kanji nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, and if you can’t do it then we can beat up your Shadows for ya, just like we did for our team,” Kanji added. “We might be a bit rusty, but we got this.”

“But you think it’s possible for us to regain our Personas without needing to fight them?” Makoto pushed, and Naoto nodded. 

“It certainly is possible, and would be the best case scenario. We need as many functional Persona-users as possible if we are going to rescue the victims before the fog rolls in.” Her expression grew a little pinched. “That being said, awakening to our Personas was… an exhausting experience. I don’t think any of us were able to go back into the TV world a mere day after our awakenings...”

“Um, I worked as a navigator for you guys as soon as I awakened, remember?” Rise pointed out. “Besides, we’d all been kidnapped and woke up in some bizarro world, and we were in there for who knows how long before we were rescued! These guys are just gonna be in and out, right? So it shouldn’t be a problem!” 

“Maybe we should make today the day for you guys to awaken to your Personas again, and do the rescue tomorrow?” Kanji suggested. “I mean, if you feel up for it after we can make a start on the place, but maybe we should just make sure we’re prepared for the big push tomorrow. And any fights, if Akechi and Okumura don’t want to accept themselves.”

“We can always push onward if needed,” Naoto agreed, “but yes, I think today we should focus on ensuring that your Personas are functional.” She straightened up again. “Are you all comfortable using our house as a base of operations? We have a television screen big enough to us to enter the world, and it is a private location where we won’t draw any unwanted attention.”

The Phantom Thieves shared a look before they nodded in agreement, and Naoto smiled. “Wonderful. Shall we begin then?” 

*

“Well?” Goro Akechi’s Shadow goaded, baring its teeth in a vicious grin. “Do you have nothing to say, Akechi-kun?”

Goro could feel Teddie and Haru watching him, staring at him like he was a specimen on display, and while attention often made him perform better – the desire to surpass the expectations of those observing him pushing him to excel – now his mind was completely blank. His throat was dry, and his heart was pounding a desperate, frantic rhythm in his chest as he tried to figure out a way to escape from this.

_Tell Haru Okumura what you’re going to do to her father once you get out of here_ – how could he? What could he possibly tell her or the Shadow that would get him out of this situation unscathed and with his Personas returned to him? 

He couldn’t tell Haru that he had every intention to walk into her father’s Palace and shoot him in the head, ridding Shido of his opponent before he had a chance to be anything close to a threat; especially not now that she had accepted her Shadow. All he had sitting in his soul was a Hariti with healing skills, while she was armed with a new Persona with skills he couldn’t predict. And, as sweet and innocent as Haru seemed to present herself, he had seen the viciousness that her inner self was willing to show. He knew that right this moment, if he tried to pick a fight with her, he’d likely lose. 

But his Shadow was still waiting for an answer, and its eyes beginning to narrow as its patience began to thin, and he knew that he’d have to say something. 

“I...” he began, but he was still drawing a blank. 

“It’s all right, Akechi-kun.”

He reluctantly tore his gaze away from his Shadow, looking toward Haru as she spoke. She stood up shakily, using Teddie as a crutch, and offered him a small, sad smile. 

“I… I know that my father is a criminal,” she said softly. “I’ve heard the rumours, and overheard some of his meetings. I know that he is treating his workers well, and that he likely had a hand in the scandals of his competitors.” She shook her head. “I know that you will need to bring him to justice. I understand that, and it’s… it’s okay.”

Haru’s words should have filled him with relief, giving him an excuse that maybe had enough truth to it to get around his Shadow, but all he felt was sick. _She has no idea what you’re capable of._

“Is it truly justice?” the Shadow jeered. “Does anything you do actually bring any good to the world?” Its golden eyes darted away from Goro and landed on Haru instead, grinning at her like he had grinned at her Shadow. “Will you still love us even if you know the truth?”

“I… I don’t love you, Akechi-kun,” Haru said, and even though this girl meant absolutely nothing to him, the declaration still stung a little. But as he looked at her, he saw a small, hesitant smile grow on her face. “But… but I would like to get to know you better. I...” She looked so hopeful. “I’d like for us to be friends.”

Goro simply blinked at her, stunned. He’d had dozens of similar proposals over the past two years, especially when his career had begun to take off – dozens of vapid children dying to be pulled into his orbit, desperately hoping that some of his talent and success would rub off on them. All of them had simply seen the surface level shine that he had shown to the world and had decided that it was pretty enough to catch their eye, and had wanted to keep it. And he, far too busy to bother with pointless friendships, had just let himself be flattered by the attention and talk to them in the halls, but never hold anyone closer than arms’ length. 

(Ren had been the only exception, but Ren wasn’t a friend. He was a target, a rival, and had never been one to get caught up in Goro’s orbit. He had his own pull, luring in his teammates and confidants, and sometimes Goro felt like he was the one being snared.)

But no one had seen the ugliness that filled him and had still wanted to spend time with him, let alone be his friend. Although, he supposed that it was likely that no one had seen the viciousness hiding beneath the pretty, polite smile of the Okumura heiress either. 

_It isn’t about you,_ an insidious voice whispered. _It’s about her, and her loneliness._

“Yeah, and I’m already Grr-o’s friend!” Teddie proclaimed, puffing himself up proudly. “And he’s a beary lovely guy!”

Goro’s attention landed on Teddie instead, and the mascot’s face was set into a cheerful smile. Both of them were smiling at him now – hopeful, genuine, like all they wanted was for him to smile back, like their offered friendship was enough to save him from everything. 

It wasn’t hope, or joy that rose inside him at the look on their faces – it was anger. Raging, helpless anger at their naive ignorance, at how empty their words were. And as he tried to suppress it, the grin fell off his Shadow’s face.

“You don’t know me,” his Shadow hissed, hands curling into fists, echoing thoughts Goro barely knew he was having. “You have no idea who I really am, what I’ve done, what I’m going to continue to do. All you feel is pity for the pathetic bastard begging for love.”

“I don’t pity you,” Haru replied, steel settling in her spine and her eyes. “I understand you, and I think you understand me. You helped me accept myself, and I want to help you do the same.”

As Goro tried to read the truth behind her words, something in his Shadow’s gaze changed. The look in its eyes became unreadable, and it tilted its head slowly as it regarded her. The gesture, small as it was, abruptly reminded Goro of Loki, and how it would stare at his targets before he unleashed his chaos upon them.

“So you care about me,” the Shadow mused, tone flat, and Goro felt something like dread begin to fight the rage in his chest. His Shadow had been begging for someone to care about him, pleading for a scrap of attention, so what the hell was this response?

“Yes,” Haru said, and Teddie nodded along. “We care about you.”

For a moment the world was still, and then the Shadow smiled with blood in its teeth. 

“How foolish.”

A red glow burst from the Shadow’s chest, bathing it in crimson light, and Goro stepped back reflexively. The glowing grew stronger, the Shadow’s golden eyes tinged with red, and as it raised a gloved hand and snapped its fingers, the shackle around its wrist cracked. 

At the same time, both Haru and Teddie recoiled like they had been struck, gasping sharply. 

Haru’s hand flew to her chest, and Teddie trembled like he was about to collapse. Goro stared at them in growing horror before he turned back to his Shadow. The thing was still grinning, although there was resignation in its eyes now. 

“What the hell was that?” he demanded. The glow looked like the Call of Chaos, but they didn’t look like they were going to become psychotic – instead they looked weak, like their strength had been drained from them. Had it cast Debilitate, or-

“You said it yourself,” the Shadow stated. “We’re cursed. No one cares about us, and the ones that do...” Its eyes slid off of Goro and back over to Haru and Teddie, its lips curling into something almost resembling regret. “We bring suffering upon them. Mother, Wakaba, and soon Ren... We kill everything we love.”

“Kill?” Goro repeated, panic growing. If Teddie died in here, then how would he get out? “No, wait-”

“I… I can feel my health dropping,” Teddie said, already sounding weak. “My energy too...”

Goro took a step toward them, already reaching for where Hariti was settled in his soul, but before he could summon the card his wrist was seized in a bruising grip. His eyes narrowed at his Shadow, and he bared his teeth at its blank face. 

“Stop this,” he ordered. “Undo whatever you’ve just done!”

“Why don’t you stop it?” the Shadow suggested without inflection, but only tightened its grip when Goro tried to summon the card again. “Prove that caring for you isn’t a death sentence.”

“They don’t really care for me anyway!” he snarled in the Shadow’s face. “They’d denounce me in an instant if it benefited them, and it _will!_ This is pointless - you’re doing this for nothing!”

“If they don’t care for me then they deserve to die anyway!” the Shadow retorted. There were pinpricks of pain around his wrist, and when he glanced down the ends of the Shadow’s black-gloved fingers ended in sharp claws. The claws of his Metaverse outfit’s gauntlets. “They’re no better than everyone else in this wretched world, treating me like throwaway trash! Either they die because they love me or they die because they don’t – it doesn’t matter! By the time we’re finished everything will be ash anyway, and _it’ll be what they deserve!”_

“Akechi-kun,” Haru whispered, and he tore his gaze away from the Shadow to look at her, barely able to stay standing and looking into his face with wide, scared eyes. “You’re better than you think you are.”

He stared at her, and the Shadow laughed – a deranged, hacking sound. “You’re nothing,” it sneered. “They’ll realise sooner or later, and will never love you.” It gazed at him with pure contempt. “You don’t want to save them anyway. They’ll only get in the way – once they’re gone, there’ll be no one left who has seen the shame of your existence. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Grr-o,” Teddie began, but the Shadow wasn’t done. 

“What are two more bodies thrown onto the pile? After everything we’ve done?”

“Grr-o,” Teddie pressed. “I-it’s getting stronger! I think it can feel you rejecting it!”

“You’ll never accept the truth,” the Shadow stated. “You’ll never get out of here.” It tilted its head, like it was listening to something far away, and it hummed. “Ah. It seems that the cavalry is finally on the way, but this isn’t the place to greet them, is it?”

Goro’s stomach dropped. 

“Don’t you fucking dare-”

The Shadow snapped its fingers, and the last thing he saw before the world lurched was Teddie and Haru reaching for him. 

*

Adachi’s hand still felt like it was on fire, even after taking as many painkillers as he could. The damn cat had left two enormous, deep fang marks on his hand and his leg, and now he had a big, garish bandage wrapped around the wounds that didn’t stop them from opening at every little movement. The doctors said it wasn’t big enough for stitches, but it sure as hell would be if it just kept opening up again. 

At least he’d managed to get revenge on the bloody cat, even if he hadn’t managed to spot it smeared across the pavement after he’d left Okumura’s place. The girl’s TV show hadn’t been what he had expected – he’d been a little disappointed that it hadn’t ended in her stripping the dress off like so many of the others, but at least it was memorable. She’d get her wish, anyway – she wouldn’t be marrying anyone when she and Akechi were both dead. Honestly, she should be thankful to him for giving her the freedom that she clearly wanted so much. 

The papers were having a field day, seeming to have taken the girl’s appearance on the midnight channel as permission to publish stories about both of his victims, and now the media was spinning tales about poor Akechi with his dead mother and trying to get interviews with Okumura’s fiance, making the entire situation into the circus he’d been waiting for ever since he had tossed Akechi into the screen. It was a bit weird that it had taken so long for the ball to start rolling, but he supposed it was better late than never. Let the media have their fun – once the fog came they’d all have the story of their lifetimes waiting. 

And after so long having to sit around and bide his time, it looked like the fog was finally on its way. And while this particular piece of entertainment might work a bit better if he waited until Akechi was definitely dead, his little break from the police investigation was getting boring and it had been far too long since he had messed with Amamiya. 

He was just stepping off the station in Yongen-Jaya when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he uttered a quiet curse as he tried to tug it out with his uninjured hand. 

He paused with his hand halfway into his pocket when he realised that it wasn’t his normal phone that was ringing, but his burner. A smile made its way across his face as he pulled out the phone that was in his hidden pocket, and he glanced around for a quiet, inconspicuous corner as he flipped it open and held it to his ear. 

“Hello there,” he greeted, his smile clear in his voice.

_“We have a complication,”_ Yu Narukami opened with, sticking to his rude habit of forgoing polite greetings. _“Kujikawa contacted me again. Shirogane’s back in Tokyo, and she thinks someone has been thrown into the TV.”_

The smile fell off of Adachi’s face, and his good hand tightened its grip over the phone. 

“What?” he growled down the phone. “When the hell did this happen?”

_“Rise called me the other day,”_ Narukami answered, like _that_ was the important part of the conversation. _“Left a voicemail where she said that it seemed like two people had been thrown in the TV, and they wanted help to rescue them.”_

“I thought your little team was useless without you?” he hissed, reaching up with his free, injured hand but unable to do anything with it. He found himself clenching it a little, the pain stinging across his skin doing little to ground him or chase the rising anger. Of course it had to be Shirogane, the little shit could never mind her own business. She’d stick with this like a dog with a bone, like she had back in Inaba. _I’ll just have to make sure she chokes on it._

_“They were,”_ Narukami agreed without inflection. _“But it’s been five years. If all of them manage to get in there, they could get them out.”_

“So how the fuck are we going to stop them, Narukami?” he sneered. “You’re the one whose been in there, you-” He cut himself off, breathing hard, and closed his eyes. _Think about this, Adachi. You’re the smartest fucking guy in Tokyo._ He opened his eyes again, and took a deep breath. “Get your ass to Tokyo,” he ordered. “Shirogane wants help with the rescue? You give it to her. You get in there, and you do whatever the fuck it takes to make sure that Akechi and Okumura don’t make it out alive. You sabotaged your precious team once, you do it again. I’m not having this ruined by your shitty little friends.”

There was silence on the other end, and for a moment Adachi wondered if this would be the line. If this would be the time when Narukami finally told him that enough was enough, that he’d had enough being an accomplice to murder, that this wasn’t fun anymore, and he finally tried to pull himself out from Adachi’s grasp. If he would finally grow whatever conscience his team thought he had when they had trusted him with all their pathetic little secrets, and leave Adachi alone to face his reckoning. 

He was halfway through plotting to take Narukami down with him when he answered. 

_“I can do that. I’ll get to Tokyo as soon as I can.”_

“You’d better,” he hissed, and Narukami hummed. 

_“Calm down. I can handle this.”_

Narukami hung up, and Adachi simply stood there with the phone up to his ear for a moment longer, fighting back the rage before he finally tucked the phone away and continued walking. Yongen-Jaya seemed a lot more boring than Shibuya, barely any shops to be seen and mostly old people crowding up the streets, and he ended up walking down the same damn street three times before he actually spotted the cafe that he was looking for. 

It looked just as unimpressive as the street around it, the bright storefront muted by the dullness of its surroundings, and the chalkboard outside the front door was tucked out of the way of any pedestrians advertised different coffee blends and types of curry that went right over Adachi’s head. The food wasn’t particularly important, anyway. 

He pushed open the door, a little bell tinkling overhead, and he came face-to-face with a pretty much completely empty establishment. There was one guy sitting in a booth near the back of the place with a scarf wrapped around his neck and a single cup of coffee placed in front of him, and the man behind the bar was pretty old and playing absently with a spoon like he wished it was a cigarette. There were no cute waitresses hanging around, and the atmosphere of the cafe was less chic and more run down, with old furnishings and a distinctly ‘brown’ feel. 

Well, this place looked like it was on its last legs anyway. All he was gonna do was give it a push. 

“Welcome,” the man behind the counter said gruffly, and as Adachi blinked at him he definitely recognised him from Amamiya’s case file as his caretaker/social worker/parole officer or whatever. So he was definitely in the right place. “What can I get you?”

“Uh, whatever you recommend!” Adachi said brightly, settling on one of the bar stools that was a little way away from the door, glancing toward the television screen propped up in the corner. The emptiness of the cafe meant that his movements might be watched a little more closely than he’d like, but he could work around that. The barista didn’t look particularly chatty, at least, and he just nodded at his statement. 

“I’ll get you a house blend,” he replied, turning to the wall of coffee beans at his back. “If you’re hungry, we also do speciality curry.” 

Curry might set him back a little more than he wanted to pay for this little excursion, but he supposed shouting down the phone at Narukami had triggered his appetite. 

“A curry sounds pretty nice actually,” he answered, and the barista nodded. 

“Be with you soon.” 

He pulled out his usual phone and watched the barista work out of the corner of his eye. The guy set about preparing the drink with practised movements that made something as simple as making a coffee look complex yet effortless, and in a few moments the cup was placed in front of him. He reached out with his injured hand instinctively, and the barista’s gaze landed on it before he could pull it back in time. 

“Looks like it hurts,” the barista said in a flat tone, not particularly curious, and Adachi plastered on a lopsided smile. 

“Burned myself trying to make my own coffee, actually,” he lied lightly. “Bit of a butterfingers.”

The barista hummed, and Adachi lifted the cup with one hand and tried a sip. It was a hell of a lot better than he expected, actually – this barista wasn’t as bad as he looked. 

“This is pretty good!” he said, and the barista gave a small smile as he turned away. 

“Thanks. Your curry will be right with you.”

He turned away, and Adachi took another sip and glanced around the place. There was a fancy painting on the wall, looking way too nice for such a dingy place, and the TV was set on some news channel that was harping on about Akechi and Okumura’s appearances on the midnight channel, and Adachi hid his smile in another sip of coffee. 

A few minutes later the curry was brought out, and it turned out that the food wasn’t bad here either. Still wasn’t the best thing he’d ever eaten, and it was probably going to be more expensive than it was worth, but at least there was a happy bonus to this trip. He stuck around for a while, drinking the coffee and eating the curry until he thought enough time had passed. 

“Hey,” he said, getting the barista’s attention, “where’s the bathroom?”

“First door on the right, by the stairs,” he answered, and Adachi smiled before sliding off the stool. 

The bathroom was tiny, barely enough to hold a toilet and a sink, but there was just enough space to work with. He pulled a pair of plastic gloves out of his pocket and pulled them on, and carefully lifted the lid of the toilet’s cistern, balancing it on the closed seat. 

Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out the phone that used to belong to Akechi, holding down the power button to turn it on. It only took a moment for it to load, and he wasted no time in turning on his location and all the other features he had turned off when he’d been using the phone in the hotel room. He’d charged it up before he’d left, so its battery was bound to last for at least a day or so. 

He wiped down the screen before tucking the phone into an airtight, waterproof plastic bag, sealing it tight and making sure there were no gaps for water to seep in through. He placed it neatly on the top of the water in the cistern, watching it sink down a little before smiling to himself and replacing the lid. 

All he had to do was message the phone, and anyone who was looking out for any network activity would be racing to track it down. And when they found it hidden in Akechi’s delinquent friend’s place… well. He imagined that the police would have a lot of questions for him and his parole officer. 

He flushed the toilet and washed his hands, stepping out of the bathroom and grinning at the barista before sliding back onto his abandoned stool. The barista nodded back, not even suspecting that his business was now a crime scene, and Adachi glanced back just in time to see the weather report, and the promise of fog by the middle of next week. 

Things were going to be _very_ exciting soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually things will stop getting worse for everyone, but the Phantom Thieves + Investigation Team are now officially in the TV! :D


End file.
